


Starlight

by poisonofblue



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward First Times, Canon Disabled Character, Canonical Character Death, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexting, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spoilers, This was supposed to be a oneshot but then it got away from me, Weddings, the road trip from hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-17 22:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15471969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonofblue/pseuds/poisonofblue
Summary: From a young age, Ignis had been told that his life would go a certain way. That he’d marry Noct, and they’d live out their days in the relative peace of the Citadel.No one told him to expect a road trip with a bunch of sweaty guys, and absolutely zero privacy. No one told him that he'd lose his home, and be forced to alternate between sleeping on the cold hard ground and questionably cheap hotels. Nor had he expected that he'd be married only a few short weeks before his husband was ripped away from him.





	1. Inlustris

**Author's Note:**

> I typed this up on my tablet, so please be kind.

* * *

  
The day Ignis meets young Prince Noctis will forever be burned into his both memory and his skin. He’s only a child himself, trailing uncertainly after his uncle through the halls of the Citadel. The Scientias have always served the royal family, according to Uncle, and now it’s his turn.

The king speaks directly to Ignis without talking down to him, as adults are prone to doing. “Stand by him,” the king says, and pushes the prince forward. “As his friend, and as his brother.”

For a moment, neither of them say anything. The prince wavers – perhaps out of shyness, or perhaps he hadn’t been told how to behave in this situation. He’s young yet, though, and his rudeness can be forgiven.

For his part, Ignis had been instructed on the proper way to behave around the royal family. He knows he’s supposed to say something, but he’s forgotten it entirely. The only thing he can think to do is to hold out a hand. The prince takes it, perhaps too eagerly, with both hands. He smiles up at Ignis – a smile that disappears just a second later, as sparks flare between their hands.

The back of his hand tingles and Ignis jerks it away to rub at it. This is, of course, very rude, even if the prince has reacted similarly. He begins to stutter out an apology, but the king just smiles.

“Well,” he says. “Perhaps not brothers, then.”

* * *

  
It takes some time for Ignis to figure out what it means – the strange, star-like dots that appeared on his skin. Noct, as he learned the prince likes to be called, has a matching set on one of his palms, and the marks glow a brilliant blue whenever they so much as brush against each other.

Ignis is young, but attentive, and the citadel seems to be abuzz with gossip. Words like “soulmates” and “betrothal” are thrown around like softballs. Some people don’t seem very happy about the news, but King Regis won’t hear any of it.

“The bond between soulmates is absolute.” He says, and no one argues with him, because he’s the king.

“That’s easy for him to say.” Mother says when she hears this story. “He actually married his soulmate. Not many people are so lucky, and the rest… Well, they’ll have trouble understanding His Majesty’s position.”

Ignis doesn’t understand, either.

* * *

  
“Are we soulmates?” He asks Noct one day. Ignis is supposed to be doing his homework, but mostly, the prince is doodling in the margins. The teacher won’t be pleased, but Ignis doesn’t stop him.

Noct’s hand stills, and he shrugs. “That’s what dad says.”

“I see.” Ignis says, and adjusts his glasses. “Then are we also… ‘betrothed’?” Ignis has always prided himself on being very smart, but that word is still unfamiliar to him.

“I…think?” Noct’s nose scrunches up, the way it does whenever he’s focusing on something difficult.

Later, Ignis finds a dictionary and looks it up. He has to read it at least a dozen times to make sure he’s gotten that right.

* * *

  
He doesn’t tell Noct about his discovery. He doesn’t know how to approach the subject, for one, and Noct will just have more questions that Ignis isn’t certain he can answer. He’s not even sure how to feel about the whole thing. He likes the prince, sure, but that’s a far cry from _marriage_.

As it turns out, though, he doesn’t have to say anything. Noct’s father already sat him down and had a talk with him about it. He just laughs the whole thing off, which Ignis think he should be insulted by, but it’s actually a huge relief. It means that nothing has to change between them.

Ignis laughs, too. He grabs Noct’s hand, and they gaze at the stars on their own skin.

* * *

  
Mother buys him a pair of gloves, and tells him to never leave the house without them. She says it’s for his own safety, so he obeys, even though he hates them. He hates not being able to see the Mark that has become so familiar to him, and the way they act as a barrier between him and Noct, preventing their stars from shining.

Noct has his own gloves too, though he conspicuously only wears the one necessary to cover his mark. It’s a little ridiculous, but no one calls him on it, because he’s the prince.

Sometimes, when they’re sure no one’s around to see, they take the gloves off anyway.

* * *

  
They sneak out sometimes. The poor Crownsguard assigned to them describe them as a nightmare. Well, mostly Ignis, who isn’t the crown prince, and who takes takes most of the credit for these excursions. Mother gives him a lecture about the safety of the crown that he can tell her heart really isn’t in.

Father just laughs. “Boys will be boys.”

King Regis doesn’t seem too concerned, either, aside from grounding Noct a handful of times. It works about as well as one can expect grounding a child who is just learning to warp can go.

One night, they sneak out into the gardens and look up at the stars – the real ones this time. There’s a very familiar pattern that catches their attention, and well, maybe it’s not exactly right, but they don’t particularly care.

Ignis looks it up later. Their stars aren’t any known constellation as far as he can tell. It’s something all their own.

* * *

  
Ignis’s bond to Noct isn’t some tangible thing. In fact, most days, he’s not sure such a thing even exists. Of course, they bear each other’s Marks, but that seems to be the extent of it.

He definitely feels something today. The skin on the back of his hand is on fire, but he (just barely) resists the urge to pull of his glove and scratch at it. There are people around, which means rules must be followed. When his sleeve starts to feel wet, however, he knows something’s wrong. There’s blood running down his arm, and he rips the the glove off to find that his Mark has turned red. No one seems to notice, too fixated on the sight of King Regis, his fine raiments covered in blood.

Ignis knows, without anyone saying it, that none of it is the king’s.

* * *

  
Noctis does not wake for several days. The doctors – and there are _so many doctors_ – say that he will recover, but. There’s always a “but”.

Ignis’s hand is mostly healed. At some point, the king had handed him a bottle full of juice. It had tasted funny, but the relief had been immediate. Since then, he’s been largely ignored, even though he only leaves Noct’s bedside when Uncle physically drags him away. It’s alright, though, because Noct’s wellbeing is the most important thing.

Foolishly, Ignis had thought that everything would be okay once the prince awoke. Even though he knew better, had been researching the effects of injuries like Noct’s, he’d still hoped… but Noct is still not well. It’s painful for him to walk or even stand for too long, so he spends most of his time in a wheelchair. Initially, Noct had refused to use it, but the pain had eventually become too much.

"You won’t heal if you keep pushing yourself like this.” Ignis had said, and that was that.

Ignis certainly hadn’t entertained the idea of Noct leaving. It’s not like he’s in any state to travel. Apparently, the king disagrees, judging by his formal request that Ignis join them on a trip to Tenebrae, “for His Highness’s Wellbeing”. Ignis would, of course, very much like to join them. Only, no one asked him. The request is delivered to his parents.

They are less than thrilled. Often, Ignis gets the feeling that they don’t fully understand his friendship with Noct. They don’t speak ill of him, but there’s something in the way they carefully steer conversation away from the prince. Or the way they always pressure him to make new friends. Or how they’re always reminding him that he could do anything, _be anything_ he wants to be. No one would judge him for quitting now.

They don’t say it, but all he can hear is “You don’t have to marry Noctis.” Technically, they did agree to it, but perhaps they regret that now.

The thing is, Ignis doesn’t know what he wants. Marriage is still a far-off concept for him, and their Marks don’t mean to him what they seem to mean to the adults. Thankfully, everyone seems to understand this, as no one is pressuring them for answers just yet. He suspects that day isn’t too far off, though, and it fills him with a sense of dread.

For now, though, he just wants to be with Noct. But Noct is going to Tenebrae, and Ignis is not.

* * *

  
Ignis worries the entire time Noct is gone. Is he eating well? Resting enough? Are the Tenebraens treating him well?

Is Noct really getting any better?

Gladio says he worries too much. His parents remind him that King Regis won’t let anything happen to Noct.

Then Niflheim attacks. It’s all over the news one morning, and Ignis can only watch in horror. _I should have_ _been_ _there_ , he thinks, even as he knows there’s nothing he could have done.

His parents seem relieved, justified at last in their decision to keep him home.

By afternoon, word arrives that both the king and prince are well, and on their way back to Insomnia. It only make Ignis feel marginally better. He suspects he won’t feel entirely relieved until he can hold the prince’s hand, and watch the stars shine on their skin again.

* * *

 

  
He does just that first chance he gets, dragging the prince off to a secluded room where they can take their gloves off without the disapproving glares of adults. Tenebrae must have done some good, because Noct follows on his own two feet, though he does still lean on Ignis for support.

When he talks about Tenebrae, he doesn’t talk about the imperial attack. Ignis only learns later that Noct and his father did, in fact, witness it. Instead, Noct talks about meeting Lady Lunafreya, about petting her dogs, and some kind of pastry that is, apparently, _to die for_. Ignis thinks that they should probably talk about it, but he’s loathe to bring up any bad memories.

“Luna told me lots of stuff, too.” Noct says. They’re lying on his ridiculously soft bed, hands intertwined. “About the Crystal, and the king and the oracle. She said… I’m the Chosen King.” He says it slowly, like the words are a puzzle he can’t quite put together. Something in Ignis goes cold.

“Chosen? For what purpose?”

"I’m not sure. But it sounded important.”

There are plenty of things that Ignis could say to that – about the significance of the Lucis Caelum line, or just how important Noct is to him, personally. He doesn’t say either of those things, though.

"I think you would have liked Tenebrae. I wish you had come with us.” Noct says after a long while, and it warms some part of Ignis’s heart.

"Perhaps next time.”

* * *

  
Ignis searches for weeks, but he can’t find much more information on any Chosen King. He begins to suspect that it was just a story that Lunafreya, bless her heart, told Noct to cheer him up.

* * *

  
Something changes in them once they both become teenagers, and yet, it’s almost as though nothing has changed at all. They’ve always been close, something Gladio teases them endlessly about, though even he doesn’t know the truth. While it’s common knowledge that the prince is engaged (technically speaking, of course), Ignis’s identity has been kept firmly under wraps “for his own safety”, as they were both children at the time.

He and Noct still spend plenty of time together. They still curl up on the sofa, Ignis with his never-ending pile of work, and Noct ignoring his own in favor of whatever game he’s downloaded to his phone this week. They still twine their fingers together every chance they get, though they’re no longer endlessly fascinated by the way their skin flashes blue. It’s just a fact of life now, like the sun rising every morning.

It’s just that everything _feels_ different now. He’s more aware of Noct – the body heat he can feel despite the layers of clothing between them, the calluses on Noct’s hands, Noct’s breath from where he fell asleep on Ignis _again_.

There are new rules, too. They aren’t allowed to be alone for long periods of time. The most privacy they ever seem to get is whenever the on-duty Crownsguard has to go to the bathroom. Ignis feels bad for these poor souls. They definitely didn’t sign up to play chaperone to the prince and his fiancé.

They definitely aren’t allowed to be alone at night. At the first hint of sunset, Ignis will be dragged away and unceremoniously deposited in his rooms at the citadel.

It’s all a bit extreme, in his opinion. They don’t need to be scrutinized, just because Noct turned out to be as ridiculously handsome as Ignis always suspected he would. Sure, his hair makes it look like he’s always just crawled out of bed, but it doesn’t do much to distract from the gorgeous blue of his eyes. Or his stupidly kissable lips. Or the subtle lines of muscle gained from years of training with every weapon imaginable. Or…

Well, it’s just a good thing that Ignis isn’t subject to the same level of scrutiny in his own bedroom.

* * *

  
In typical fashion, Noct manages to make things both better and worse, this time by asking Ignis out on a date.

"So, my dad thinks we should go out on a date.” Noct says, far too casually.

“Your father does.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah. They’re getting ready to formally announce… well, you know.” Even after all this time, Noct still gets flustered whenever their engagement is brought up. “And dad thought it might go easier if it looked like we were already dating.”

“Are you asking me to fake date you?” Ignis can’t help the quirk of his lips. It’s like a scene out of a dumb romance movie. Not that he’d watch such garbage, of course.

Noct doesn’t smile, though. “Not… exactly.”

Ignis blinks, though this isn’t entirely unexpected. “What is it ‘exactly’ then?”

"Its just… Well, you know…” Noct rubs awkwardly at his neck. “Ugh, I’m messing this all up… I mean, we’re supposed to be soulmates, right? That’s what everyone’s been saying this whole time. So, shouldn’t we at least… try to see where this goes?”

He looks up at Ignis, some strange emotion swirling in his eyes, and Ignis crumbles under the intensity of it.

“Alright.” He says, and takes Noct’s gloved hand in his own. “Let’s go on a date.”

* * *

 

As it turns out, everything’s already been arranged for them. All Ignis has to do is meet Noct at the restaurant. He’d offered to pick Noct up, but the prince had just waved him off.

When he arrives, Ignis immediately feels underdressed, especially compared to Noct in his elegant blank suit. It’s the same one he wears to formal events for the crown. Ignis always thought it looked dashing, but he knows Noct hates it.

Noct certainly looks uncomfortable now, fiddling with the buttons and throwing dirty looks at Gladio, who no doubt refused to let him leave in sweatpants.

Ignis should be used to luxury, but something about the scene makes him feel out of place. Here’s Noct, the crown prince, draped in silk against the backdrop of the kind of restaurant that Ignis would never be able to afford on his own. He feels woefully inadequate.

The strange thing is that even Noct seems out of place. He can’t reconcile the image of Noct lounging around his filthy apartment in the same clothes as the day before with that of the young man in front of him. In this moment, he isn’t just Noct, but _Noctis Lucis Caelum, 114th heir to the throne_. It’s a glimpse of the king he will someday be, and Ignis isn’t sure he likes it.

"Hey, you still with us, Iggy?”

"Apologies.” Ignis says, adjusting his glasses. “I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“…Right. Are you sure this is okay, cause we can totally-“

“It’s perfectly fine.” Ignis says, even though it’s really not. Clearly, a lot of effort has been put into this, and he’d hate for it to go to waste.

“Okay. I’m just gonna… go get us a table, then.” Noct points awkwardly to the hostess who’s been eyeing them, with all the interest of a dead fish – which is to say, none. Ignis would know. He’s seen _a lot_ of dead fish in recent years.

"What’s the reservation under?” She asks, with just enough inflection to make it a question.

Noct raises an eyebrow. “Lucis Caelum?”

The change is instantaneous. “Oh, your highness! I mean they told us you were coming, but… Anyway, right this way, uh, sir.”

They’re led to a secluded area. In fact, it’s suspiciously empty, compared to how packed the rest of the restaurant is.

“Noct, did your father… reserve this entire space?”

“Not exactly. I mean, we have people for this kind of thing…”

“…Right.”

“Um, is there a problem, your highness?” The hostess is darting her eyes back and forth between them, like she doesn’t know what to make of them.

“No, this is fine, thank you.” Ignis answers instead.

“Right. Well, you can take a seat wherever you’d like. Will your… friend be dining with us as well?” She’s eyeing Gladio now, as though he were a wild animal.

“Might as well, right? While my dad’s footing the bill.”

Gladio rolls his eyes, but still grunts out an affirmative.

They end up taking a table near the window, with a breathtaking view of Insomnia at night. All in all, it’s very romantic.

“It’s a safety hazard, is what it is.” Gladio says. “What are you gonna do if someone starts shooting from the building across the street?”

"Phase, obviously.” Noct says, pulling the chair out for Ignis.

"What a gentleman.” Ignis says dryly.

“Hey, those etiquette lessons had to come in handy eventually, right?” Noct flashes a smile that causes his heart to stop for a second.

"Okay, but what are you gonna do if they shoot at Iggy here?”

"By the Six, Gladio, no one’s going to get shot!”

“U-um, would you like to hear the drink specials?” Oh, right. The hostess is still there. “We have a lovely Altissian wine that goes great with our sea bass sauté.”

"I’m _fifteen_.” Says Noctis, the saint who definitely didn’t break into his father’s liquor cabinet last month. At least he doesn’t seem eager to repeat the experience.

“Right. I knew that.” “A water would be lovely, thank you.” Ignis decides to put the poor woman out of her misery. Noct is dismayed to learn that they don’t carry his favorite soda. Or any soda, for that matter. It is with heavy reluctance that he finally orders a glass of water. The hostess seems relieved as she scurries away.

“Hey, what do you think would happen if I tried to make a potion out of wine, anyway?"

“I think that question is best posed to your father.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe we should order a bottle to find out. For science.”

Ignis looks up from the menu to give him the same unimpressed look he reserves for when Noct is avoiding schoolwork yet again.

“Worth a shot.”

From the table next to them, Gladio snorts.

A waitress arrives shortly thereafter with their drinks. She doesn’t seem as nervous as her coworker. Instead, she’s almost obscenely polite and cheerful. Clearly, she expects a large tip.

Ignis has a hard time deciding what to order. They offer a wide variety of dishes that pique his curiosity as a chef. Eventually, he decides on a nice grilled salmon. Noct has similar difficulty, but for a totally different reason, one Ignis had foreseen while perusing the menu. Nearly every dish includes some kind of vegetable. He ends up ordering a steak.

"We’ll have that right out for you, your highness!” The waitress chirps, and then they’re left to their own devices. Gladio’s still there, of course, but he’s studiously ignoring them in favor of his phone.

“I’m just here to make sure that no one gets shot. And that you keep your _hands_ off of each other.” He says.

“No one’s going to get shot!” Noctis says, but Ignis’s focus is elsewhere.

“Why did you say the word ‘hands’ like that?” Ignis squints at Gladio. “They told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep. And honestly, I’m still a little pissed at you two for keeping secrets.” Then he’s right back to ignoring them.

“Can you believe this guy?”

Ignis doesn’t reply. In fact, neither of them say anything. Now that there’s nothing left to distract them, the reality of the situation has started to sink in. He’s on a _date_. With _Noctis_. And he has no godly idea what he’s supposed to say or do.

"You know,” Gladio pipes up. “This might go a lot better if you two actually talked to each other.”

The thing is, Ignis has no idea what to talk about. They already spend almost every waking moment together. He knows that Noct is doing well in school, that he finally beat Prompto's high score in _Justice_ _Monsters_ _Five_ – a feat that Prompto will no doubt retaliate against – and that Noct is worried about his father, though he doesn’t quite know how to express it. What more is there to say?

"You look good.” He finally blurts out. He can hear, rather than see, Gladio’s hand making contact with his face. It’s true, though. Noct looks practically radiant in the dim candlelight of the restaurant.

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Noct says lightly, but there’s an adorable flush high on his cheeks, and he’s fiddling with the silverware. He’s actually wearing two gloves today – black leather things that cause Ignis’s imagination to run wild for a moment.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for their food to arrive. Ignis suspects the staff prioritized their order, which he should probably feel bad about, but at least it gives them something else to focus on. Like Gladio’s atrocious table manners.

"Must you slurp?” He asks, but Gladio’s apparently ignoring them again.

The food is good, at least, and Ignis makes some notes about the dish. It’s something he’s taken to doing lately, in an effort to expand his culinary skills. Noct teases him about it, but he pays it no mind. They’re offered desert, but there’s an unspoken agreement not to linger here. Noct does offer to walk Ignis to his car, however. Maybe those etiquette lessons weren’t a total waste of time, after all.

"So, um,” He says, tugging on his gloves. “That was… kinda weird, huh?”

Gladio snorts.

"Indeed. Perhaps next time we might simply go to the arcade. You could show me that game you’ve been raving about.”

"Wha- Uh, ‘next time’?”

“I’m sorry, was that too presumptuous of me?”

"Uh, no. That sounds great. And maybe next time, we can get a little less commentary from the peanut gallery.”

“Just doin’ my job, your highness.”

* * *

  
They do, eventually, make it to the arcade, where they manage to distract Gladio with some dumb fighting game before slipping off to the other side of the building. Instead, they run into Prompto, who doesn’t seem to realize that he’s “third-wheeling” until Ignis leans down to kiss Noct ( _on the cheek_ ) as they’re leaving.

"Oh, jeez.” Prompto’s face is red, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck. “If you wanted to be alone, you should have just said so.”

"Nonsense. I would never presume to dictate who Noct spends his time with.”

“A little privacy would be nice, though.” Noct mutters, so quietly it can barely be heard.

* * *

  
There’s several dates after that.

They go to the observatory, where Noct is thoroughly unimpressed. “I like our stars better.” He says, and it’s utterly ridiculous, but Ignis feels like his heart might burst out of his chest. (He probably ought to see a doctor about that.)

Then there’s the Museum of Lucian History, where there’s an exhibit on the kings of Lucis that Noct seems interested in. There’s even space already dedicated to King Regis, which seems to amuse and unsettle Noct in equal measure. Nearby is a suspiciously empty space that will probably one day be for _King_ _Noctis_ _Lucis_ _Caelum_ _CXIV_. They don’t talk about that.

They go to the aquarium, where Ignis actually stops to read the information provided on the animals, and Noct just proclaims that he’s going to catch them all, even when faced with a statue of Leviathan herself. He’s probably joking. Ignis hopes he’s joking.

They do actually go fishing, and to the movies, and a dozen other places that hold all of Ignis’s fondest memories. However, it isn’t any of those outings that draw attention. When news of their relationship spreads, it’s with a picture of the two of them at a diner near the citadel – Ignis, holding a can of Ebony to his lips, and Noct waving a fry around as he complains about schoolwork. The picture is just blurry enough to suggest it wasn’t taken by a professional.

The funny thing is, they’ve been to that diner several times before without incident. It wasn’t even a “real” date, just a spontaneous decision to grab lunch together while they had time. Though, to be fair, Ignis does look absolutely smitten in the picture. He wonders if he always looks at Noct like that. If so, it’s no wonder Gladio is always complaining.

He isn’t particularly bothered by it. In fact, they’ve been planning for this for a while, in order to make his engagement to Noct public knowledge. What does bother him are the headlines that accompany the picture, questioning the prince’s fidelity to his fiancé. Of course, there _is_ no infidelity, but it still angers him to see Noct portrayed in such a way.

“It’s just typical tabloid trash.” Noct shrugs, skimming through the article. “I’m pretty sure this magazine ran an article last week claiming they found my dad’s illegitimate child or something. Unless you think my dad has illegitimate children?”

“No, but there are people who do, and who will believe this, as well.”

"Let them,” Noct says, and throws the thing in the trash where it belongs. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

Then, he kisses Ignis until he can’t think about ridiculous tabloids anymore. (or rather, until Gladio clears his throat, loud enough to force them apart.)

* * *

  
It happens on an ordinary Wednesday. Ignis drops Noct off at school as usual– a task he’s likely only allowed to do because he can’t very well drive while having his wicked way with the crown prince.

Noct is still half asleep, yawning and rubbing at his eyes as he gathers his things. “Bye.” He says, giving Ignis a quick kiss. “Love you.” Then he’s stumbling off to go sleep his way through homeroom.

Ignis is left sitting there, staring dumbly at Noct’s retreating back as he tries to process what’s just happened. Then, he throws off the seatbelt and is out of the car before he really has time to think about what he’s doing.

“Noct wait!” He jogs to catch up, though Noct hadn’t gotten very far. He knows he must look ridiculous, red faced and out of breath. “I love you, too.”

Noct blinks. It suddenly occurs to Ignis that he may not have been totally aware of what he was saying earlier. Then, his lips twitch. “You ran over here just to tell me that?”

Ignis adjusts his glasses. “It seemed of the utmost importance.”

"You’re ridiculous.” Noct says, but he’s smiling.

“But you love me.”

* * *

  
Noct pounces almost as soon as the door close behind Gladio. Ignis still isn’t sure how he managed to convince Gladio to go downstairs to get the pizza, but he is grateful for the time that buys them.

Noctis is over him, pressing him into the cushions of the couch, and kissing him breathless. Ignis understands, of course. Despite the fact that they’ve been dating for over a year, they hardly get to show any affection. There’s always someone watching them.

There’s Gladio, who Ignis is beginning to suspect has a timer on his phone specifically for how long they’re allowed to kiss. Or Prompto, who is so uncomfortable with the situation he’ll do anything to distract from it, which usually means distracting Noct from Ignis entirely. Or, worst of all, the various strangers, who amount to little more than glorified babysitters.

Ignis isn’t actually sure when the last time he got to just hold Noct was. He does that now, wrapping one arm around Noct’s waist and putting his other hand on the back of Noct’s head. His hair is surprisingly soft, and Ignis can’t resist the urge to run his hands through it. He wants to take his gloves off so he can appreciate it properly, but that would require him to let go of Noct.

They break apart reluctantly. Oxygen is a necessary evil in these situations. Noct’s face is flushed and his breath is coming out in harsh pants. Ignis thinks he looks even more stunning like this, like every one of his deepest, darkest fantasies come to life.

When Noct leans back down, he doesn’t go for Ignis’s lips. Instead, he leaves a trail of kisses across Ignis’s jaw, and down his neck. It feels nice, which is exactly why it needs to stop.

“Noct.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out as a moan instead when Noct sucks on a particularly sensitive spot. So, he tries again. “Gladio s going to be back any moment.”

“We could always lock him out.” Noct mumbles into his neck.

“I’d rather not have to explain to your landlord why your Shield broke the door down.”

“Ugh, _fine_.” He pulls back, but only enough to look Ignis in the eyes. “This is so unfair.” It comes out as a petulant whine, which Ignis should probably put a stop to. The thing is, he understands where Noct is coming from. If they were any other couple, no one would think twice about leaving them alone for longer than a few minutes. But because of their positions, there are rules that must be followed, no matter how ridiculous they might be.

“Sorry, Specs, I don’t think I’m gonna survive until the wedding.”

“Come now, it’s not much longer.”

According to the contract signed by Noct’s father and Ignis’s parents (and isn’t _that_ romantic?), they’re supposed to be married after the prince turns twenty.

"It’s _three_ _whole_ _years_ , Ignis. I’m definitely gonna die before then.”

That’s preposterous, and Ignis would tell him, so, except Gladio’s banging on the door.

“I’m coming in, so everybody better be dressed.”

They jump apart from each other, as if they’ve been burned. Ignis barely has time to straighten his clothes (and when did those buttons on his shirt come undone?) before Gladio comes striding in. Based on the look on his face, they haven’t done a very good job of concealing what they were doing, but he doesn’t say anything.

Later, when he’s alone in his bed and feeling braver than he probably should, Ignis sends Noct a text:

_Would it help at all if I told you all the things I want to do to you once we are married?_

* * *

  
“Heya, Specs.” Noct is standing in the doorway to his office, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Noct.” Ignis says, by way of greeting. There’s a report in his hands, but he’s suddenly lost all interest in it. “I’m sorry, did we have some sort of engagement today?” It’s not unusual for him to get caught up in work and forget plans. Luckily, he has a very forgiving fiancé.

"Not exactly. I, uh, actually got you something, and I couldn’t wait to give it to you.”

"You did.” Ignis doesn’t mean to sound so surprised. It’s not that Noct isn’t thoughtful, but he certainly isn’t one for random gifts, either.

“Yeah, but, um, I have to ask you something first.” Slowly, he makes his way around the desk and comes to kneel at Ignis’s feet. In his hands is a little black box, which holds a ring – solid black, except for some small blue gems in a familiar pattern. _Oh_. “Will you marry me?”

“You do, of course, realize that we are already engaged?” Ignis asks, eyebrow raised and lips quirked up.

" _Obviously_.” Noctis, the romantic, huffs. He pulls himself up to sit on a corner of the desk. Ignis feels like he should object to this, but he lets it slide. “It’s just… That’s something our parents decided on, and they only did that because of these Marks.” To make his point, Noct pulls off his glove, to show off the pattern of stars underneath. Ignis can’t resist the urge to reach out and take his hand, despite the remaining layer of cloth between them.

“Don’t you remember?” Noct continues. “They didn’t even tell us what was going on. I think I heard some servants gossiping or something. So, I’m not asking your parents, or the Gods, or whoever gave us these marks. I’m asking _you_. Do you want to marry me?”

"I thought the answer to that was abundantly clear.”

"Yeah, but you should probably say it once, just for my sake. I’m pretty dense, you know.”

Several days later, the city is abuzz with news of the ring on Ignis’s finger.

* * *

  
“So, have you guys talked about what you’re gonna do after the wedding?” Prompto asks one day. They’re sitting around Noct’s apartment, playing _King’s_ _Knight_ and munching on some snacks that Ignis brought. “Like, are you going to move in together? And please, for the love of the Six, don’t tell me you’re going to hyphenate your last names.”

Ignis pauses, because they haven’t given it much thought.

“I mean, I’ll probably have to move back into the Citadel eventually, right?” Noct shrugs. “I guess that’s as good a time as any."

"Yes, and I suppose I will have to take your name, given the importance of the Lucis Caelum line.”

"You don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Then allow me to rephrase. I would like to, as long as you are not adverse.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. That’s cool.” Which is probably Noctis for “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was seriously afraid you guys were gonna let your poor kids be named ‘Scientia-Lucis Caelum’.”

Ignis chokes on his Ebony.

* * *

  
Almost as soon as the dust settles from Noct’s twentieth birthday, they’re thrown into preparations for the wedding. Ignis thought he had been prepared for this eventuality. He’d been wrong.

It means surprisingly little time spent with Noctis, as he’s thrown into meetings and fittings and Mother’s attempts to micromanage everything. It means that they suddenly have to figure out all those little things they hadn’t thought about before, and avoid making a scandal in the process.

Noct, for his part, is very little help. He doesn’t seem to care much about the actual wedding, so much as he cares about _marrying_ _Ignis_. It’s a sweet sentiment that doesn’t help them pick out tablecloths at all.

Of course, things are then thrown into further upheaval, and of course, it’s all Niflheim’s fault.

“You wanna run that by me again?” Noct’s rubbing his ear, like he’s sure he heard wrong. Ignis is tempted to do the same.

King Regis sighs, rubbing his forehead. “As part of the terms of surrender, your wedding is to be held in Altissia, which, as you know, is a territory of the empire. It’s supposed to be a show of good faith between the nations. You should count yourself lucky, Noctis, for they almost demanded a union between you and Lady Lunafreya.”

"So, we’re just supposed to go waltzing into enemy territory, is that it?”

“You’ll have Gladiolus with you, and… You can take that friend of yours – Prompto, wasn’t it? Besides, you and Ignis are both capable in your own rights. I have faith in your ability to make it there and back safely.”

"This is bullshit, and you know it. Why the hell does the empire care about our wedding?”

“This isn’t a request, Noctis.” The king says, stepping down from his throne to look Noct in the eyes. “I know you’re worried, but this is for the best. A king must be prepared to make sacrifices for his people, and this? A change of venue is hardly a sacrifice at all. You will still have each other, and that’s the important thing. Don’t you think, Ignis?”

"Huh?” Ignis is surprised at being addressed. He’d been quiet throughout this entire exchange, bothered by the sense that something isn’t quite right. The king’s request isn’t entirely unreasonable, and it made sense in a surface level, but Noctis is also right. Why _did_ the empire care about their wedding all of a sudden?

Then there’s the sense that there’s something King Regis isn’t saying. Or that he means something very different than what he is actually saying…

None of it adds up, but Ignis doesn’t say that. What he actually says is “Of course, Your Majesty.”

* * *

  
The feeling of wrongness does not subside. Rather, it’s pushed to the back of Ignis’s mind, as he’s thrown into wedding planning full force. Before, they’d had the luxury of moving at their own pace, but now they have an entire wedding to plan in just a few short weeks. Another gift from their friends in Niflheim, it seems.

Noct is still upset, but he at least seems more eager to help now, if only to keep the Nifs from dictating everything about his own wedding. His choices are somewhat questionable, though.

Still, he supposes they have it better than Prompto, who’s been unceremoniously thrown into Crownsguard training in preparation for the trip.

* * *

  
It’s the day they’re supposed to leave, and Ignis is overcome with a sense of melancholy. He’s standing in his room, but there’s nothing here for him anymore. All of his things have been packed up, either to be taken with him, or to be moved to Noct’s old room. He’ll likely never have a reason to come back here again.

In fact, nothing will be the same once he returns. He won’t have the same job, or title or even the same last name. People have already begun to treat him differently, and he’s not sure he likes it.

Of course, he’s ecstatic to be marrying Noctis, but it’s becoming apparent that he’s not prepared for everything that entails.

He wonders if Noct feels the same way.

They meet with the king briefly - another strange exchange where it feels like he is speaking in riddles - before piling into the Regalia. It’s a tight fit, but they manage. As they pull out of the city, it feels like saying goodbye to life as he knows it.


	2. Aurora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I just want to thank you all. It makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying my work, and I hope you continue to do so. Without further ado, he's chapter two.

* * *

Because nothing can ever go smoothly, they barely manage to make it out of Insomnia before they have car trouble.

“Not exactly a fairytale beginning, huh?” Gladio says, and that’s an understatement. Ignis has had ample time to think about his wedding over the years. More than most people, probably. Still, never once in his wildest dreams, did he picture the four of them pushing His Majesty’s car under the blazing sun in the middle of nowhere.

At least they manage to make it to Hammerhead in one piece, though their troubles only seem to increase from there. It starts fine enough, with them being greeted by the scantily clad, but kind Cindy.

"Now, which one’s the prince?” She asks, and Noct takes that as his cue to stand up. “Ah-ha! And that would make…” She twirls her finger around between them before settling on Ignis. “You the fiancé.” He’s not sure if she genuinely knew that, or if it’s a lucky guess, though he wears both his ring and his Mark with pride these days.

“Indeed. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

"The pleasure’s all mine! Congrats on the weddin’, by the way.”

“Not hitched just yet.”

Then there’s Cid, who has more clothes, but less manners. He scoffs at the sight of Noct. “Like they took your old man and kicked the dignity out of him.” He says, before sizing Ignis up. “At least this one looks like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. You? That slack jaw’s getting you nowhere fast.”

Despite the compliment, Ignis feels vaguely offended. They’ve got bigger problems, though, so he doesn’t dwell on it.

Noct comes up to him, brandishing a bottle, and Ignis recognizes the signs of magic on it. “I’m not injured.”

“I know. I just thought you’d be thirsty.” Noct says, and shoves it into his hands before he can object. “Hey, Ignis, I’ve got plenty of dignity, right?”

“Of course, my love.”

Somewhere, he hears Gladio snorting.

"Listen, Noct… It seems we expended the last of our funds on the repairs.”

“Off to a great start, huh?”

"Indeed.” Ignis says, and breaks open the energy drink. He really ought to save it for when they need it, but it’s not like they can afford anything else.

“Sorry. This… really isn’t how I wanted things to go.”

"It’s hardly your fault. Simply a bit of bad luck, I’d say. But it’s alright. This will all be worth it, in the end.”

* * *

They’re forced to make camp that night, much to Noct’s dismay. Admittedly, it isn’t Ignis’s favorite thing in the world, either, but they’ll survive.

"We’re taking this side.” Noct declares, throwing down a sleeping bag.

“We?” Gladio repeats, arms crossed.

“Yep. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. What are we gonna get up to with you two _right_ _there_?”

“I don’t know dude, they might start _spooning_.” Prompto looks horrified at the very idea. “You’ll get over it.”

They do, in fact, start spooning at some point during the night, likely scarring poor Prompto for life.

* * *

Their bad luck only continues from there. When they finally reach Galdin, they learn that the boats have not. There's an Imperial blockade, which doesn’t even make sense, because they’re the ones that wanted to have the wedding in Altissia in the first place!

There’s that feeling of wrongness again, but Ignis can’t focus on that, because they get roped into running another ridiculous errand for a man who says he can get them a boat. By the time they make it back to the hotel room, they’re exhausted, and Ignis lets Noct drag him to bed without giving it any thought.

He wakes the next morning, and everything feels right for a change. He’s curled around Noct’s smaller frame, their hands intertwined and Mark alight. Noct is snoring slightly and drooling on the pillow. It’s repulsive and endearing all at once. And he gets to have this for the rest of his life. Noct stirs when he begins to pull away, but Ignis silences him with a kiss.

"I'm just going to find us some breakfast, love."

Noct mumbles something like "food good", and settles back into the soft hotel bed.

Galdin is quiet at this time of morning, which seems reasonable, but there's something about it that unsettles him. It's not the lazy silence of a world still waking, but a soft, mournful silence. The few people awake seem to be whispering to themselves, obviously startled by something.

When Ignis goes up the counter at the Mother of Pearl, the woman working there - Coctura, according to her name tag - has a severe frown on her face. She's clearly trying to sound cheerful for the sake of a customer, but it misses the mark. As he's waiting for their food, he catches sight of one of the many televisions in the area, and all the blood in his body runs cold.

“You boys are from the Crown City, aren't you?" Coctura says, in the voice of someone who's trying to be sympathetic, but doesn't really understand.

He grabs one of the newspapers provided to the guests, as though that will somehow contradict what’s on the TV. It doesn't.

He thinks of Noctis, snuggled up under the blankets, blissfully unaware of what's happened. Gladio, who probably won't cry, but will grieve in his own way. Prompto, who isn’t particularly close to his parents, but will feel this as strongly as he feels everything else.

Dear gods, how is he supposed to tell them?

* * *

By the time Ignis has collected himself enough to return to the room, the others are already awake and dressed. It makes things slightly easier, because at least now he doesn't have to pull Noct out a dead sleep to deliver bad news. It also makes things more difficult, because now they're staring at him, as though they're already expecting something.

"There you are, Iggy. We were beginning to wonder if you'd fallen in the ocean." Says Prompto, all smiles as usual and dear gods _he doesn't know_.

"What’s that look for?”

Ignis doesn’t know what to say, so he lets the newspaper do it for him. “It’s in all the papers.” He says, because he’d checked. He’d wanted so badly to find one reputable source that says anything different. He couldn’t.

" _What_ is?”

“Insomnia… falls?” Prompto says, as if those words haven’t been on repeat in Ignis’s brain all morning.

"What? Is that supposed to be a joke?” If only that were true.

"Please calm down so we can explain.” He reaches out for Noct before he’s even sure what he plans to do. There obviously isn’t anything he can do to make the situation better, and he tries not to be hurt when Noct pulls away.

"I’m as calm as I’m gonna get!” He says, but of course, it only gets worse.

“ … ‘when the smoke about the Citadel had cleared, the king was found… dead’.” Gladio reads from the newspaper. It’s perhaps not the best way to break that particular bit of news.

“We had no way of knowing.” Ignis tries to soothe the prince. “That the signing was last night. That Insomia-“

"But the wedding! Altissia!”

"That was the plan, but… Something about that has been bothering me. You were right, before, that the empire has no reason to care about our wedding. It’s likely we were never meant to make it to Altissia at all.” Except, that’s still not quite right. The empire has to know where they are, and yet, he’s spotted no soldiers. Nothing to indicate any imperial presence. If they’d murdered the king, surely they’d want to come after the crown prince next.

Perhaps they weren’t meant to leave Lucis, but it’s also clear that they weren’t meant to be in Insomnia when it fell. They’ve clearly been lied to, but by whom?

“We can’t be sure of anything until we see it with our own eyes.” Gladio says.

“And that means… we go back to Insomnia.” Prompto’s been quiet throughout most of this, staring blankly out the window. He speaks up now.

* * *

Ignis is a smart man, a fact few who know him would argue. Standing on the hill overlooking the burning ruins of his home, however, Ignis realizes that he’d been a fool. He knew, logically, that the reports couldn’t all be wrong. Still, he’d hoped, in some deep, dark part of his mind that it had all been lies.

They scramble for their phones, dialing the numbers of loved ones with shaking fingers. Ignis receives no answer – not from his parents, or his uncle, or the king.

Prompto pulls up a news feed. Perhaps he already knows better than to try his parents, or perhaps he just couldn’t take the disappointment.

“… Moreover, in the wake of the news of King Regis’s death, we’ve now received word that Crown Prince Noctis, and his fiancé, Ignis Scientia, have both been pronounced dead. The Oracle Lunafreya was reportedly also seen in the Crown City, though her whereabouts are currently unknown.”

Now, that is news. What in the world could Lunafreya be doing in Insomnia? Ignis looks to Noct, but he’s preoccupied with his phone again. They’ve finally managed to reach someone. The Marshal is, perhaps, not the most comforting person, but it is a relief to hear his voice again – to know that they still have allies.

* * *

Seeing Noctis obtain the power of kings is… something else. He stumbles as the spectral sword impales him through the chest, and Ignis rushes to his side before he can stop himself. His mark itches, but Noct seems fine otherwise. More than fine, in fact, as his ancestor’s weapon swirls around him.

He looks like a king, illuminated by the light of the crystal’s magic – the only light in the small tomb.

"The power of kings goes with you, Your Majesty.” Cor says, and Ignis’s heart sinks to the ground.

* * *

At camp that night, they pull up a list of people who have died. It’s obviously imperial propaganda, considering the very first name is “King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII” followed by “Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum” and “Prince Consort Ignis Scientia” – the entire royal family, laid neatly to rest.

Further down are the Amicitias – both Clarus and his wife. Iris is missing, as they knew she would be, but it’s still a relief not to see her name.

It’s short lived. Ignis’s own parents are there, as well. There’s his uncle, and his aunt and the cousins he only sort of tolerated, but now misses horribly.

“I’m sorry.” Noct says, as he lays down beside Ignis. He likes to be the “big spoon”, presumably because it gives him delusions about being taller than he really is.

“For what?” There’s a million things that he could be apologizing for, none of which are really his fault.

“For being such a horrible fiancé.” Gladio makes a noise that Ignis shuts down with a glare. “For being so wrapped up in everything with my dad, that I didn’t think to check on you. I didn’t think about the fact that you’d lost people, too. And… for snapping at you this morning. I know you were just trying to help.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Ignis rolls over to look at Noct in the darkness of the tent. The only light comes from their joined hands. “I know you’re upset, and I can’t promise that everything will be alright, but at least we still have each other.”

"We’re here too, guys.” Prompto pipes up. “So, maybe chill out with the light show. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

* * *

 They keep monitoring the list as it updates. It takes some time, but eventually, the Argentums are added, as well.

* * *

“Do you think Luna was really in the city?” Noct asks. They’re sitting in Takka’s diner, taking refuge from the sun. The radio on the counter occasionally plays bits of news as it come from Insomnia.

“I couldn’t say for sure.” Ignis replies.

“You haven’t gotten any more messages from her?” Prompto looks up from his camera to ask. They haven’t seen Umbra, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been there.

Noct shakes his head. “Just the one, where she said she was leaving Tenebrae. She didn’t say where she was going, but I just thought she meant Altissia, you know?”

Ignis suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore. “It’s true that the empire already has control of Tenebrae, but Lady Lunafreya is also the Oracle. They may have need of her power.”

“So, what are you saying?”

"That it’s possible she was also deceived.”

* * *

Ignis has fought alongside Noctis before, but only in a training room setting. This is the first time they’ve ever fought an actual battle, and it is _exhilarating_. There’s a fluidity to their movements that doesn’t exist with Gladio or Prompto, some instinct that drives him to be exactly where Noctis needs him to be. It’s feral and beautiful all at once.

As Noct looks at him, blood on his face and radiating the power of kings, Ignis thinks he falls even more in love.

On the other hand, the bond has turned out to be a bit cumbersome. A scratch here or a bruise there is nothing, but they can’t sustain any serious injuries without also incapacitating the other. It’s a vicious cycle wherein they end up using twice the potions they would have normally – usually doled out by an increasingly exasperated Prompto or Gladio – and therefore have to take on more hunts to pay for them, resulting in more injuries.

Its’s a miracle they get anything done at all.

* * *

It happens one night at camp. Ignis is sitting with Noct, who is finishing up his dinner, while Gladio and Prompto train on the other side of the haven. It’s totally normal, except that it’s not. There’s something off about the way they’re moving. It’s like looking at the world’s strangest mating dance.

The thought hits him so suddenly that he freezes with his cup raised to his lips.

"Gil for your thoughts?”

“It’s just…” Ignis is normally quite eloquent, but here just gestures vaguely at their friends.

"Oh, that. For the record, Prompto is officially never allowed to complain about us again. Royal decree.”

That does get a laugh out of him.

“I’m serious. At least I actually had the guts to ask you out, instead of sighing over you like a teenage girl.”

"After your father suggested it. And we were already engaged to be married.”

"Yeah, well, details.” Noct waves him off, before going back to pushing the carrots around his plate. “Hey, Specs?”

“Yes, my love?”

"You don’t think… Prompto already has a soulmate, do you?”

Instinctively, he looks down at his own hand, though he’s had to start wearing gloves again. He hadn’t considered that option. The fact of the matter is that the majority of the population never develop Marks for whatever reason, and he tells Noctis such.

“I know. It’s just… haven’t you noticed that Prompto always keeps his wrist covered? I mean, he’s done that ever since elementary school, but we were kids, too.” He shrugs.

Ignis looks back at the others. They’ve given up any pretext of fighting, and are now staring at each other. He recognizes the look on their faces, because it’s the same one he gives Noct every single day. It’s so sweet that Ignis’s stomach churns, because if Noct’s suspicions are correct, any relationship between them is doomed from the start.

Gladio and Prompto didn’t meet as children, after all.

* * *

Noct tries to broach the subject with Prompto, but subtlety isn’t his strong suit. The conversation usually end with Prompto scurrying off red-faced, and making excuses like “Gee, look at the time!” and “Gotta go feed the chocobos” (even though they hadn’t rented any that day).

Therefore, Ignis has no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

“Prompto, will you help me prepare dinner tonight?”

“Uh, me?” “Is there someone else named Prompto around here?” He gives the young man a small smile, but that just seems to confuse him further. “I know you typically handle firearms, but surely even you can handle chopping vegetables?”

“Sure.” Prompto says slowly. Over his shoulder, Ignis can see Noct shoot him a “what are you doing?” look. He pays it no mind.

The cooking equipment is situated far enough that their conversation shouldn’t be heard by the others, and Ignis busies himself with the stove while Prompto gets to work on the peppers. His slices are uneven, but it will work.

"So, about you and Gladio…”

“I knew it! It’s a trap!” Prompto throws down the knife and turns to leave, but Ignis levels him with his best Advisor Glare – the one he uses to keep Noct in line. It seems just as effective here.

"Forgive me, but I thought a direct approach might be best.”

“Look, I don’t know what Noct’s said to you, but it’s probably not what you guys are thinking.”

“Then allow me to be clear: Noct suspects that you are concealing a Mark on your wrist, a Mark that Gladio does not share.”

Prompto huffs, and crosses his arms. “Well, I’m not, not that it any of your business. Even if I did have a Mark, it wouldn’t matter. I know that what you have with Noct is all _deep_ and _special_ , but that isn’t the only thing that matters, you know.”

Ignis freezes, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected this level of animosity. “I didn’t mean to imply-“

"What? That I’d just up and walk away from someone because of some supernatural tattoo?”

"I just-“

“Save it.” Prompto says, and he’s stomping off before Ignis can say anything else. He goes straight into the tent, without acknowledging either Noct or Gladio.

"So… I guess that went well.”

* * *

Ignis is prepared to grovel the next morning. While he isn’t as close to Prompto as Noct, he’d hate for there to be any discord in the group. He wakes up bright and early, detaches his leech of a fiancé, and sets about making one of Prompto’s favorite dishes for breakfast. It’s a small token, as far as apologies go, but it’s been proven to be effective in the past.

He’s barely cracked the eggs when he hears the sound of the tent opening. Prompto emerges, still in his sleep clothes, and hair mussed. “Hey…”

Ignis should probably say something. Something apologetic. What actually comes out is “You’re up early.”

“Yeah. I heard you moving around and… Look, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

" _You’re_ sorry?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I know you’re just worried.”

“No, I should be apologizing. I should not have asked something so personal, or made such assumptions.”

Prompto begins to fidget. “It’s just… weird, you know? The whole Mark thing. People keep acting like there’s something wrong with you if you don’t have one, even though almost no one does. Like you’re just settling for whoever you’re with, no matter how you actually feel about them.”

“Yes, my parents used to say something similar.”

That seems to take Prompto by surprise. "Really? Even though you have Noct?”

"It may surprise you to learn that it can go both ways. My parents felt looked down upon for their relationship, and in turn, looked down upon mine. They felt that I was being pressured into something I didn’t actually want. That Noct was taking advantage of me. Because they, too, felt that there was only one right way to be with someone.”

It’s hard to talk about now, knowing that he’ll never have the chance to make them understand now. Or perhaps he should have should have tried to understood them more.

“Wow, I didn’t know all that.” Prompto says, collapsing into one of the chairs left out from the night before. “You know… I used to be so jealous. We were in high school, and everyone was trying to figure out relationships and going on awkward dates and stuff. But there was Noct, with a Mark on his hand and a fiancé already picked out for him.”

“I assure you, we had plenty of awkward dates. Especially in the beginning, where I think we didn’t really know what we wanted…”

Which is how he launched into the story of their first date. He’s just getting to the good part when the others finally crawl out of their sleeping bags. Noct looks ridiculously cute with his hair sticking up all over the place, and marks from the pillow across his cheek.

"And then Noct says-“

“No one’s going to get shot.” He finishes with a yawn.

* * *

Three Royal Arms down, and Ignis is starting to feel good about the way things are going. Noctis has already gained quite a bit of power, and they’ve crushed everything the empire has thrown at them, including the seemingly endless waves of Magitek Troopers. At the rate things are going, it’s only a matter of time until they reclaim Insomnia.

Then Noct falls to his knees, clutching his head. Ignis rushes to his side, pulling a potion out of his jacket, though Noct doesn’t seem to have any visible injuries.

“Noct, you okay?” Prompto asks from the prince’s other side.

He babbles something about a hole in the ground, and something burning.

“You saw the Disc of Cauthess?” Ignis frowns, trying to piece together what that could possibly mean. The Disc. Where Titan slumbers. He suddenly remembers Lunafreya’s story about a king chosen by the Gods. He doesn’t like this one bit. 

* * *

They head back to Lestallum. Noct spends the entire car ride slumped in the backseat, complaining of headaches. When they arrive, Ignis helps him out of the car, and lets Noct lean on him for support, though he insists it isn’t necessary. Luckily, it’s a short walk back to the Leville.

They talk briefly with the others before Noct falls to his knees for a second time. Another vision of the meteor, he says.

“And you’re sure it’s the Disc?” Ignis asks.

“I think? I mean, I only caught a glimpse of it when Iris was showing me around town…” Ah, yes. Dear, sweet, Iris, who doesn’t quite grasp the meaning of the word “engaged”.

Prompto suggests going to the outlook to get a closer look. Ignis isn’t sure what they could possibly glean from this distance, but it’s better than standing around the hotel lobby, waiting for answers to fall into their laps.

Later, he’ll wish they’d done just that. Red 

* * *

There’s someone already at the outlook, which wouldn’t be so strange, if they hadn’t met this man before in Galdin Quay. Ignis is beginning to suspect that they’re being followed, and it makes the thought sends a shiver down his spine.

For a man who claims to be “of no consequence”, he seems to be rather well connected. He claims he can get them through the imperial blockade at the Disc. There’s obviously something deeper at work here, but they aren’t in a position to question it. Their only other option is try breaking through the blockade themselves, and that’s… inadvisable in Noct’s current condition.

The others seem to agree that this “Ardyn” isn’t to be trusted. It makes Ignis want to shake them and demand to know why they’re going along with this, then. Why they’re delivering their king – the _love_ _of_ _his_ _life_ \- to this “creepy old dude”. Watching their backs is a flimsy plan at best, and one he’d rather not rely on.

"Noct, how are the headaches?” Ignis asks to have something else to focus on.

"Fine for now, but they come without warning.” It’s only mildly reassuring.

At least Ardyn turns out to be true to his word. They do manage to make it to the Disc without incident. It’s everything afterwards that’s a disaster.

They just manage to find another royal tomb (and watching Noct be impaled by spectral weapons never gets any easier) when another earthquake strikes. Except it’s not an earthquake. It’s the Archaean, awakened from his long slumber, and he wants something with Noct.

To make matters worse, they’ve been separated from Noct and Gladio, and there’s also the empire to deal with. That’s not even taking into account the unbearable heat. Ignis would say that it can’t get any worse, but he doesn’t want to tempt fate.

“I have an idea.” He tells Prompto. The poor kid looks even more miserable than Ignis feels. He definitely didn’t sign up for this, and his rudimentary training definitely didn’t prepare him for it, either. Ignis fears his own, more extensive training, may prove inadequate, as well.

"An ice spell?” Prompto asks, looking at the flask in Ignis’s hand. “Do you think that will work here?”

"Magic works in strange ways. And this is a stronger form of the spell than you’re used to seeing. I was saving it for an emergency, and I think this definitely qualifies as one.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“At the very least, it should buy us some time to escape.”

"Live to fight another day. I like the sound of that.” Prompto smiles as he pockets the spell, all fun and games.

They manage to make it to Noct and Gladio with little trouble. Neither the empire nor Titan seem concerned with them, at least until they jump into the fight – and they’re fighting an _actual literal god_ , for heaven’s sake! Surely, this counts as blasphemy, even for a king.

He doesn’t have long to consider the possibility of divine retribution. Titan falls forward, and it’s the perfect opening. They hurl the flasks at Titan, and Ignis doesn’t even have time to wonder if they’ll work on a god. Titan’s arm freezes solid, and with one powerful swing, Noctis shatters it completely. It’s awe-inspiring.

Light bursts forth from the Archaean, and Noct falls to his knees.

"That was… Luna. You spoke with her?”

Titan doesn’t answer, not that Ignis expected him to. Instead, he…vanishes. Entirely. In a burst of golden light.

Just what was that?

* * *

Ardyn comes to their rescue again, this time in a Magitek Engine, of all things. Though, it makes sense given what they learn about him.

“Izunia?” Ignis repeats. The name likely doesn’t mean much to the others, but he’s poured over enough political reports that he recognizes it immediately. “Imperial Chancellor Izunia?”

It has to be a trap. But they’re already trapped, aren’t they? For all his supposed brilliance, Ignis cannot, for the life of him, figure out what Chancellor Izunia is playing at. What was the purpose of all this?

Ever since they left Insomnia – or perhaps, even before then – Ignis has felt that he’s been trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces.

Since they have no other choice, they climb up into the ship. Ignis puts his hand on Noct’s back, but otherwise refrains from touching him. He doesn’t want to give Chancellor Izunia anything else to use to against them, though it’s unlikely he hasn’t noticed.

Only once the airship has disappeared from sight does he give into the urge to put his hands on Noct, to make sure he’s safe and whole. He’s just bruised and covered in sweat – they all are – nothing a bath and some rest won’t fix.

“What about you? You’re not hurt?” Noct asks, bless his heart.

“Physically, I am fine.”

“We’re okay, too, by the way.” Prompto pipes up.

* * *

They find a place to rest, and Ignis sends Noct off to the bath while he starts dinner. He’s only just started to arrange the ingredients on the counter when Noct comes barging into the tiny space that can only be loosely described as a kitchen.

“You better see this.” He says, and Ignis is momentarily distracted by the sight of his bare torso. He’s only human, after all. Then, he see it – a series of lines wrapped around Noct’s upper arm. It’s not like their Mark – white instead of pale brown, and it doesn’t illuminate when Ignis runs his hand over it. It looks almost like scarring, though the skin feels perfectly normal under his fingertips.

It looks… like the markings the Archaean had on him.

* * *

Once they’ve all washed up, they sit down at the outdoor table to eat. Noct shows off his new mark to the others, and they’re just as baffled by it.

“Does it hurt?” Prompto leans forward to get a shot of it with his camera (“for reference”, he’d said)

“Nah. I didn’t even notice, at first.”

“But you think it’s got something to do with Titan?” Gladio sounds skeptical, not that Ignis blames him.

"It’s the same kind of marking the Archaean had.” He says anyway, adjusting his glasses. “I know it sounds strange, but I think we can all agree we’ve gone far past normal.”

“You can say that again.” Prompto shoves a a spoonful of rice into his mouth. “What does it mean, though?”

"Dunno.” Noct says. He’s just pushing the food around his plate, though he must be starving.

“Just one of the many thing we do not yet know.” Ignis sighs. “I must confess that this is all rather frustrating.”

“What is?”

“That everyone seems to have some idea about what we should do, except us. Your father sent us from Insomnia and the Marshal sent us to find the Royal Arms. Now, it seems the very gods want something from us, that Lady Lunafreya is somehow involved in this, and as for the Chancellor…”

"We have no idea what he wants, but it can’t be anything good.” Gladio finishes for him.

"So, wait, does that mean Lunafreya’s really in Lucis?” Prompto asks.

“Seems that way.” Noct shrugs.

"You said that she spoke to Titan, correct? Then it’s likely that she’s the one who woke him from his slumber.”

“But why would she do that?” Prompto asks, and well, that’s the big question, isn’t it?

* * *

Several days later, and they’re still staying at the caravan near the Chocobo Post – a fact that has even ceased to excite Prompto at this point. The Regalia is still nowhere to be found, and it has been raining all day. It’s a miserable experience all around.

“Hey, look, it’s Umbra!” Prompto says, ever the animal lover. Still, Umbra isn’t just any old dog, so they follow him. He leads to them to Gentiana, who can’t really be considered a solution to their problems.

“By the Stormsender’s blessing will the path to the Stone be opened.” She says without ever opening her eyes. “The Oracle goes hence, in her king’s name.”

Her words fill Ignis with a sense of dread. So, they’re to face Ramuh now? Lunafreya can’t honestly expect them to fight the entire Hexatheon.

“Where’s Luna now?” Noct is either unaffected , or chooses not to show it.

"The eye of the storm.” Which is probably as direct an answer as they’re going to get. “When the covenant is forged, the Oracle and Ring shall await their king at the Walls of Water.”

“The ring?” Ignis asks, but Gentiana is already gone. Is that why Lunafreya was in Insomnia?

Despite her strange way of speaking, Gentiana has provided a lot of answers, at least. It seems Lunafreya is awakening the gods, so that Noctis can receive their blessings, though it’s still not clear for what purpose.

"That mark on your arm. It must be a symbol of Titan’s favor.”

“Great.” Noct sighs. “I’m gonna come out of this looking like Gladio.”

"Nah. You’re still too scrawny.”

* * *

Ramuh’s blessing turns out to be a simple thing to get, all things considered. There’s no “epic boss battle”, as Prompto might put it – aside from an unpleasant encounter with a naga. Instead, they have to brave the storm to find a few runestones. It’s not the best way to spend an afternoon, but it’s certainly not the worst, either.

Afterwards, Noct has a new Mark, on his shoulder this time. It’s the same scar white and looks like a curiously shaped lightning bolt.

Later, he’ll learn that it’s the head of the Fulgarian’s staff.

* * *

They learn from Cindy that the Regalia is at an imperial base. It’s not entirely unsurprising, though Ignis can’t fathom what the empire plans to do with it. They slip into the base under cover of night, and he is, once again, reminded that subtlety is not Noctis’s strong suit. It doesn’t take long for all pretense of stealth to go right out the window.

This is especially true when Noct somehow brings divine retribution down on their foes. Ignis only just has enough time to get out of the way before lighting comes crashing down, stronger than he’s ever seen before.

So, this is what it means to have the Fulgarian’s favor.

* * *

Ignis is sitting in one of the chairs at camp. He's only just opened the King's Knight app - he's not addicted like Noct and Prompto, but it's a decent way to kill time - when a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders from behind.

"Yes, Noct?" He asks without looking up from the game, although it's still loading. The signal out here is truly atrocious.

"Nothin. Just..." Noct leans forward to rest his chin on Ignis's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm being a terrible fiancé again. I’ve been real busy, and haven’t paid much attention to you.”

It has certainly been a busy couple of weeks. They’ve infiltrated another imperial base, traveled to Cape Caem, and gotten the materials for His Majesty's boat, all while continuing the search for the Royal Arms. No rest for the wicked – or this case, the divinely Chosen.

“It may surprise you to know that I am a grown man, with my own wants and needs outside of our relationship.”

"Well, yeah.”

"But, if it would make you feel better, I’m willing to permit the physical contact.” And that’s how Ignis ends up with a lap full of Noctis in a chair that’s barely big enough for one grown man, much less one and half.

* * *

It takes a few days for the repairs to be finished, which gives Ignis plenty of time to think. They’ll be headed to Altissia soon. As in, the place where he and Noct were supposed to get married.

With everything that’s happened, their wedding has been pushed to the side. They haven’t talked about it, but Ignis suspects it will be some time before it actually comes to pass. For now, they have to get to Altissia, then Noctis will need to receive Leviathan’s blessing. Then there’s the matter of the Crystal, and the empire, reclaiming Insomnia and that’s not even accounting for whatever divine destiny the gods have in store for Noctis.

It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does, because these are Very Important Things that Need to be Dealt With. He’d just really been looking forward to finally getting married after sixteen years of build up.

* * *

They have some free time, so they wander – and get lost in – the streets of Altissia. It really is beautiful, and an idea starts to form in the back of Ignis’s head. It’s ridiculous, but he just can’t get rid of it.

“Marry me.” He blurts out eventually, and it’s so out of character that even he’s startled.

“What’s this now?” Noct is staring up at him, somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“Marry me.” Ignis repeats, taking a Marked hand in his own. “Right here, right now.”

"Kinda sudden, don’t you think?”

“Apologies. It’s just… I can’t help but feel like if we don’t do it now, we may never have the chance.”

“Okay.” Noct squeezes his hand with a soft smile. “Lets do it. Hey, Gladio, we need you to marry us!”

“Huh?!”

* * *

Technically, Noct is the king now. His word is basically law, and more to the point, there’s hardly anyone left to argue with him. So, he could technically declare them married, and that would be the end of it.

They do, however, want to have something resembling an actual ceremony. Ignis’s wedding clothes have been shoved to some dark corner of his bag, and he digs them out with butterflies in his stomach. There’s not much to be done about the wrinkles, but they’ll survive.

“Aren’t the bride and groom not supposed to see each other before the wedding?” Prompto teases from his perch on Gladio’s lap.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure they’re not supposed to go on the world’s worst road trip, either, but here we are.” Noct says, pulling his cape around his shoulders.

Ignis has gotten used to dressing up. Years of meetings and, more recently, formal appearances as Noctis’s fiancé have instilled in him a need to always look his best. This is something different. He’s not used to the many layers, the feeling of black silk against his skin, or the emotional weight that comes with it.

"Here.” Noct says, and helps Ignis untangle the gold chain that’s supposed to go across his chest (and what purpose does that serve, anyway?). “Not getting cold feet on me, right? You know how much I hate getting all dressed up for nothing.”

"Never.” He takes Noct’s hand – the unmarked one this time – and places a kiss on the back of it.

"Then let’s get this show on the road.” Says Gladio, who’s opted to wear an _actual_ _shirt_ _with_ _sleeves_ for the occasion, and that’s probably about the best they can hope for.

Ignis is sure they make a curious sight as they stride out of the hotel and back into the streets of Altissia, but no one is rude enough to comment on it. They wander around for a while, looking for a good, secluded spot to do this, largely due to Prompto insisting that the lighting’s no good.

“You want to have nice wedding photos, dontcha?” He asks, waving his camera around.

"I’d like to _have_ a wedding.” Ignis replies.

They do, eventually, find a nice quiet spot on the water, just before sunset. It’s all very romantic, and Ignis could not care less. He remembers that he’d once been annoyed with Noct’s flippant attitude towards their wedding, but now that all his careful planning’s been thrown out the window, Ignis is starting to see the merits of simply being together. He has Noct, and they’re about to be married, and that’s all that matters.

* * *

In theory, as a senior member of the Crownsguard – being the King’s Shield and all – Gladio is able to officiate weddings. In practice, he’d never actually expected to have to exercise that particular right. He doesn’t really know quite what to say, but he’s trying, and Ignis appreciates it.

"You’re terrible at this.” Noct says. There’s a stupid grin on his face, and it’s the loveliest thing Ignis has ever seen.

"Well, excuse me.” Gladio huffs. “I’m not the ones who decided to get married this afternoon.” 

Noct rolls his eyes, and takes Ignis’s hands in his own. Their Mark sparks to life in the dying sunlight, as he begins to recite his vows. “I swear, before the Crystal-“

“The Crystal isn't here.”

“In spirit, Gladio!”

“Dude, you’re ruining the moment!” Prompto wails.

“This is the worst wedding ever.” Ignis says, but he can’t stop smiling.

"Ugh, now I have to start all over. It was hard work memorizing this stuff, you know.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I _swear_ , before the Crystal, the Gods and all the Kings that have come before me, to stand by your side for the rest of my days.”

"Wait, _that’s_ what was such hard work to memorize?”

“I’m a very busy man, Prompto. _Assassin’s_ _Creed_ doesn’t play itself.”

“Indeed.” Ignis replies dryly. “And I swear, before the Crystal – in spirit, Gladio – the Gods, and all the stars in the sky to stay by your side for the rest of my days, Your Majesty.”

"You just had to go and embellish it, didn’t you?” Noct asks. He pulls their hands apart, but only to slide a new ring on Ignis’s finger. It’s a simple black thing, embellished wth the word "starlight".

"I didn’t want to disappoint.” Ignis slips his own ring onto Noct’s finger, and yes, he could definitely get used to that.

"Then I guess I pronounce you man and… uh, husband? Is that how that goes?”

"That’ll do, Gladio.” Ignis laughs, but only for a moment, because Noctis – his _husband_ – is kissing him.

“Best wedding ever.” Noct says when they part, a little breathless, and everyone has a good laugh about that.

* * *

“So, I kinda got you guys something.” Prompto says. They’re walking back to the hotel and there’s a certain skip to his step. Before Ignis can ask, he’s already sliding the object into Noct’s hands.

"The key to the hotel room?”

“Actually, it’s a different key. For a totally different room. Hooked you guys up with a fancy suite and everything.” He nudges Noct’s shoulder with a wink that is entirely unsettling.

“Wait. How much did that cost you? Because I’ll not have you using the group’s funds for-“

“Oh, leave him alone, Iggy. It’s a special occasion, so we can afford to splurge a little, right? Besides, I _really_ don’t want to spend my wedding night listening to Gladio’s snores, if you know what I mean.” He says the last part in a low voice, but Ignis is sure that even Gladio, who’s a few feet ahead of them at this point, heard it.

Ignis should argue about how they could get a regular room, that they don’t need to splurge this much. Suddenly, his brain doesn’t seem to be working though, because _Holy_ _Mother_ _of_ _Shiva_ , they actually survived to see their wedding night, and that’s. Well, it’s distracting, to say the least.

"Right.” He finally manages, swallowing thickly. “Thank you, Prompto. That was very thoughtful of you.”

* * *

Waiting for one’s wedding night is supposed to be romantic. Noct had called it stupid. Privately, Ignis had agreed. It’s not like they weren’t already going to spend their lives together, and they certainly couldn’t have a child out of wedlock, so what did it really matter?

Now, he’s certain it had been a bad idea. He’d gone to get their bags from the other room, ignoring Prompto’s suggestive comments and Gladio’s offers of advice (in retrospect, Ignis probably should have taken him up on that). When he’d returned, he found Noctis sitting on the bed fully dressed, complete with his shoes and cape, and Ignis realized that he had absolutely no idea how to proceed.

He knows, in theory, how these sorts of things work, but that doesn’t seem to be helping much in practice. He should probably join Noct. Maybe kiss him and see where that goes. That’s worked well in the past, at least until Gladio comes banging on the door.

Is that even what Noct wants, though? They’ve talked about this, sure, and he did imply before, but they probably should just get some rest for tomorrow.

“You’re overthinking things again.” Noct says, getting to his feet. “Don’t argue with me. You’ve got that look on your face.”

Ignis wants to ask what sort of look that is, but his mouth is suddenly very occupied. And okay, this is good. This is easy. He can do this.

"Come on, let’s… let’s go to bed.” Noct mumbles against his lips, and just like that, he feels unbalanced again.

“Just- Just a moment. I need to get something. Why don’t you… make yourself comfortable.” He gestures vaguely toward the bed.

Reluctantly, Ignis breaks away from Noct, and goes to dig around in his bag. It’s a little embarrassing to remember that he’s been carrying around condoms and lubricant this entire time, but in his defense, he’d been led to believe there was a honeymoon in his future.

When he turns around, Noct is shrugging off his jacket. His cape’s been thrown somewhere, and his feet are bare. He raises an eyebrow when Ignis sets his… supplies down on the nightstand but otherwise doesn’t comment.

Then they’re kissing again, and they sink into the bed. It’s not without a bunch of awkward shuffling to get comfortable, but its fine. Ignis is used to kissing and wandering hands. It’s when the clothes start to come off that he realizes that the years of imposed virginity have definitely not prepared either of them for this.

They don’t quite know what to do with their hands, what the other likes or dislikes. Ignis isn’t even sure what he wants except _Noctis_ (which isn’t very helpful).

It’s all very awkward and clumsy and a lot of trial and error. Ignis does take pleasure, but less from the clumsy fumbling and more from Noctis. Noctis, with his dark hair spread out against the pillow, and pale skin on display. Noctis’s breathy little sighs when he manages to do something right, and his earnest, if not misguided, attempts to please Ignis in return. And the knowledge that they have years ahead of them to learn each other’s bodies.

* * *

Wakefulness come slowly to Ignis. He’s warm and comfortable, wrapped around Noctis for a change. There’s nothing between them, which is… weird, but he decides he likes it. The Mark of the Fulgarian is visible on Noct’s shoulder. Ignis kisses it, as though that can erase the Mark and all of the troubles that comes with it. It’s still there, of course, but it’s a nice thought.

“Ugh, five more minutes.” Noct grumbles, in typical fashion. Ignis should scold him, convince him to get up. They’re supposed to be meeting wth Lady Lunafreya today, and Noct needs to receive the Tidemother’s blessing.

He doesn’t particularly want to move, either, though.

Eventually, Gladio comes banging on the door, and drags them out of bed. They get dressed – in their fatigues again, because who knows what the day may bring, and set out to do what they actually came here for.

Later, Ignis will remember this morning and think that he should have never let Noct out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the game, you can get the marks of the astrals as key items, and while this is probably just some metaphorical "hey, they like you now" kinda thing, I decided to have fun with it.


	3. Tenebris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of me finally clearing Pitioss Ruins, here's chapter 3. I'd say "enjoy", but this one's gonna hurt a little.

According to their agreement with Secretary Claustra, Ignis will have to go with Prompto and Gladio to help with the evacuation efforts. He’s reluctant to leave Noct to deal with Leviathan alone, but a promise is a promise.

He thinks, foolishly, that Noct can probably handle it. That they’ve already passed two trials, and he’ll have Lunafreya to speak on his behalf, at any rate.

In the chaos, he catches sight of Noctis… flying? He’s surrounded by the royal arms, and warping circles around the sea goddess. It’s terrifying and beautiful and Ignis knows that something has gone very wrong.

As soon as he is able, he reunites with Gladio and Prompto, but they can’t reach Noct, and his worry only increases. He barely has time to think about that, though, before the bridge they’re on collapses.

When he comes to, Ignis is floating in the water between the streets of Altissia. Somehow, he’s lost his jacket and his gloves. His Mark is on display, skin raw and red. He’s surrounded by debris, and he feels a pang of loss for the beautiful city Altissia had been just this morning.

He doesn’t dwell on it, though. His only priority now is to reach Noct. He knows that his husband is alive, but in pain. It’s just a matter of how long that lasts. The city is crawling with imperials, but Ignis still has his daggers and he’s just as deadly with them. Perhaps even more so, as fear twists in his gut, urging him onward.

* * *

Of all people, Ignis finds an ally in Ravus Nox Fleuret. An unlikely pairing, to be sure. Ignis isn’t sure that Ravus even knows who he is, but their goals are aligned for now, at least. Together, they cut a path to the alter.

Before he can reach Noct, though, Ignis catches sight of a white dog. It’s not Umbra, clearly, but he thinks Noct mentioned Lunafreya owning a second dog that comes to him sometimes. The dog collapses on its side, and Ignis kneels to investigate.

Instead, he’s assaulted by visions. Visions of Noct, but different – older, perhaps – wearing the Ring of the Lucii. There’s figures all around him, moving towards him, impaling him over and over again until Ignis wants to cry out, but he can’t find his voice. And there’s a voice, echoing in his head.

“Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all.” It says, and Noct fades away.

When he comes to, he’s on his knees, and the dog is nowhere to be seen.

“What did I just see?” He feels cold, and not just from the rain and seawater.

* * *

Ignis never told anyone but he still has nightmares about it sometimes – about Noct, his little body covered in blood and cradled in King Regis’s trembling arms. Only, in his dreams, Noct never awakens, and Ignis is forced to watch as his best friend withers away, knowing that there’s nothing his ten year-old self can do.

Except when he looks again, Noct is no longer a child. There’s his adult self – the man Ignis loves – lying cold and dead in his bed in the Citadel. And there’s nothing even his 22 year-old self can do about it.

He feels like he’s just woken up from one of those nightmares.

* * *

Ignis picks himself up slowly, on shaking legs. He needs to get to the altar now more than ever. He needs to see Noct with his own two eyes, to make sure that his husband is safe and sound – as much as he can be.

His Mark pulses, but he ignores it and presses on.

Noct is lying on the cold, hard ground. He unconscious, but the rise and fall of his chest means that he’s still alive. Lunafreya, however, is lying perfectly still, red staining her pretty white dress.

Ignis is guiltily relieved, even as he mourns her loss.

Ravus is, to use a word Prompto might, _pissed_. He lashes out at Noct, and Ignis just can’t allow that. He doesn’t want to hurt Ravus. He knows the man is grieving, and heaven only knows what Ignis would do, were the roles reversed. He won’t allow any more harm to come to Noct, either, though.

Through some combination of blades and words, Ignis manages to subdue him, but only just barely. He’s exhausted, and all he wants is to scoop Noct up and take him back to the hotel. He thinks he’ll get a chance to do just that when Gladio comes running up to them.

Except, something’s not quite right. Where’s Prompto?

“Well, well, what have we here?” Gladio says, sauntering over to where Ravus is still kneeling.

Ignis knows they have some sort of rivalry, but this is neither the time nor the place. He’s about to tell Gladio so, but the man is already swinging his sword and-

“Ardyn!” Ravus yells

_What?_

“Was I that transparent?” Gladio asks, except it isn’t Gladio anymore. There is, in fact, Ardyn Izunia standing in his place.

They’re suddenly surrounded by Magitek Soldiers, and before Ignis can even think about summoning his daggers, they’ve managed to restrain him.

“The game’s up, my boy.” Ardyn says, and the words goes black.

* * *

When he awakes yet again – and he’s really getting tired of being knocked out – he’s lying on the cold, wet ground, held down by metal hands. Ravus doesn’t seem to be faring much better.

More important, though, is Ardyn, kneeling next to Noct’s prone form with a knife in his hand.

“Come now,” he says. “Why not follow your beloved’s lead and stop resisting? Ah, surprised? Of course I know all about you, Ignis Scientia. These Marks are curious things, aren’t they? They say that even if you damage the skin, the Mark will remain. I wonder what would happen if you cut off the hand entirely.”

“No… you can’t…” Ignis pleads, as Ardyn raises his knife. “Noct!”

It’s Ravus who stops him, though he tried to kill Noct himself just moments ago. It’s only a distraction, but it’s enough. Arden tosses Noct to the side like a rag doll, and a ring – _the ring_ , not his wedding ring – falls right in front of Ignis’s face.

Another foolish idea overtakes him. One with much more dire consequences than an impromptu wedding. He knows that, while he is _technically_ part of the royal family now, the kings of old won’t care. They’ll only see the blood in his veins. He just hopes they’ll see that it flows only for Noctis.

“Why not come with me?” Ardyn asks, and Ignis would sooner throw himself from the highest floor of the Citadel.

With a strength he didn’t know he had, he flings the Magitek Soldiers off of him, ring already in hand. “I swore an oath,” He says, though his body’s shaking. “To stand with him always. Whatever it takes, I _will_ protect him!”

And before he can rethink it, he slams the ring onto his finger.

* * *

Ignis is no stranger to pain. Ever since they left Insomnia, they’ve had to fight off hordes of daemons, and imperial soldiers and even common wildlife, resulting in more injuries than he cares to remember.

However, nothing could ever compare to the memory of almost losing Noct.

At least, not until this very moment. Everything is fire and agony. He endures it all, though, for Noctis’s sake. It’s odd, though. The pain isn’t in his arm, as one might expect. It’s in his head, blooming in his skull as flames lick at his face.

He blinks. Except, no, that’s not right. His eyelids didn’t move, but his vision went black anyway.

Noct is lying on the ground, and Ignis reaches a shaking hand out to him. The Mark has started to heal, but it barely registers in his mind.

Black spots start to form, growing until they take over his entire field of vision, marking the last time Ignis ever sees the man he loves.

* * *

Even with the ring’s power, it’s not enough. He only manages to fight Ardyn off for a short while, before collapsing to the ground. In truth, he doesn’t remember much of the battle, hadn’t felt completely in control during it. It makes sense, all things considered.

He’s no good in a fight anymore.

“That was rather reckless.” Ravus doesn’t have much room to talk, but Ignis kindly doesn’t point that out.

“Where’s Noct?” He turns to where he thinks Ravus’s voice is coming from. “Is he… alright?”

“More or less – all thanks to you.” It doesn’t make everything better, exactly, but it helps. At least everything he did wasn’t in vain.

* * *

They must make a sorry sight when their friends finally catch up to them. Ignis is still lying on the ground, likely staring off into space as he tries to identify where Prompto and Gladio are. Noct is… somewhere, probably in the same state Ignis left him.

They have all sorts of questions, speaking over each other as they try to piece together what happened. Eventually, it must become obvious that he’s in no state to answer, because they stop.

There’s some shuffling off to the side, and what must be Gladio grunting. Picking up Noct, maybe?

“Can you stand?” Prompto asks. He’s quiet now, but no less panicked.

“I… I’m not sure.” He could, perhaps, stand. Walking is another story entirely. The streets of Altissia were confusing enough with his vision. He’s liable to walk right into the sea now.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Prompto isn’t as strong as Gladio, but he manages to help Ignis to his feet. He puts an arm around Ignis’s waist, and starts to guide him away from the altar.

“Wait. The ring…” All he wants is to through the damn thing into the ocean, where it can’t possibly hurt Noct, but they’ll likely need it in the days to come.

“Oh, right!” Prompto releases him just long enough to retrieve it, then they’re off back to the Leville. He’s kind enough not to mention the way Ignis stumbles, the blank way he must be looking forward, or the horrendous scars he’ll later learn have taken over his face.

Instead all he says is “Damn, you’re bony. How does Noct willingly put up with this?”

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning, Ignis is momentarily confused. He’s awake, but everything is still pitch black. There’s not even any light peeking through the curtains. He blinks a few times, just to assure himself that his eyes are open.

He thought he’d come to terms with everything that had happened. He’d been wrong. There hadn’t been time to process much of anything in yesterday’s chaos, and it all hits him now, like being caught in a Blizzard spell.

He can’t see. He will likely never see again. He won’t be able to see Prompto’s photographs, or watch Gladio train with Noct. He’ll never get to see Noct retake his throne, and that. That brings up a different kind of panic entirely.

How can he stop that vision from coming true, when he’s like this?

He’s crying, breath coming out in short gasps and suddenly Prompto’s at his side and how long has he been there?

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay now.” He says, and it feels like a lie.

“Where… where are we?”

“The hotel, remember?” That’s right, Ignis does remember coming back to the Leville. He remembers Prompto helping him into bed and falling asleep with what remains of his Crownsgaurd uniform still on.

“Noct?”

“He’s in the other room. We thought he might need some space.” That’s probably for the best, really. Noct will already be in shock when he awakes. There’s no need to add a blind husband to the mix.

“Hey, Iggy…” Prompto says slowly. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I…”

“Cuz you keep staring at my shoulder. And those scars look pretty bad.”

Instinctively, Ignis brings a hand up to his face. The skin does feel odd, but it’s hard to determine the extent of his injuries.

“What _happened_?”

“I… I did what I have always done: protect Noct. But… I was injured and. Well, I’m afraid I can’t answer your first question.”

He hears Prompto gasp. Then there’s the weight of something against his shoulder, and something soft on his face that might be Prompto’s hair, and something wet seeping into his shirt.

* * *

Once they’ve managed to pull themselves together, and Ignis has managed to get changed into a fresh Crownsguard uniform with Prompto’s help (“I bet you’d rather have Noct do this” he’d joked) they move to the other room.

Gladio’s there, which means another set of explanations. He doesn’t cry. He yells, and Ignis can’t decide which he reaction he prefers. Then, he storms out of the room so loudly, only Noct could sleep through it.

Prompto begins to stutter out an apology, but Ignis’s focus is elsewhere. Now that the dust has settled and he can finally start to think straight, he realizes that he can see one thing: tiny pinpricks of light, like stars to guide him home.

He reaches out to them, and feels the comforting weight of Noctis’s hand in his own.

* * *

They’re alone when Noct finally awakens, sometime later that day. It’s probably easier this way, without Gladio’s misplaced anger, and Prompto’s well meaning but misguided attempts to bring levity to the situation.

He’s facing away from Noct, which spares him from having to explain immediately. “Are you back with us? I’ll tell the others, though it may take me a moment.”

He knows that he should stay, that they need to talk, but he also wants to put it off for as long as possible. Telling Prompto and Gladio half-truths had been easy. He’s not sure he can do the same with Noct, but nor does he want to burden him with the knowledge of all that has happened.

Noct gasps. “You’re hurt…”

“A small sacrifice.” It doesn’t come out nearly as reassuring as he’d hoped it would.

“What the hell are you talking about? Your face…” The lights in his vision move, which must mean Noct has gotten out of bed. There’s footsteps, then the feeling of Noct’s hand tracing his scars. “What happened to you?”

Ignis doesn’t answer at first, carefully weighing his options.

“Hey, look at me. Please.”

“I’m afraid I cannot.”

Noct’s tears are worse than Prompto’s. The sound is like a stab wound to the heart, and Ignis would give anything to make it stop. Awkwardly, he reaches around to put his hands on Noct’s back.

“It’s alright.” He says, even as he knows that something has been irrevocably broken between them.

* * *

He never sees it, but he’s told that Leviathan’s mark is on Noct’s face, in the shape of one of her fins going across his cheek.

“Trust me,” Prompto says. “It’s just as ridiculous as it sounds.”

It says something about their current state that Noct doesn’t dignify that with a response.

* * *

“Noct,” He says one day. They’re still staying at the Leville, and Noct is lying in bed. According to Gladio, that’s all he ever does these days. “Perhaps it might be best if we brought our journey to close.

That apparently gets Noct to move, judging by the rustling of the sheets. “Why?”

“It’s just that…” Ignis pauses, unsure of how to proceed. “We’ve already lost so much.”

_I can’t lose you, too._

“That’s why I have to keep going – because if I give up now, their sacrifices would have been for nothing!” He used to adore Noct’s sense of justice, his willingness to do the right thing. Now, it’s something of a nuisance.

_Please, Noct. Can’t you see that you’re walking to your death?_

* * *

“See, this is why soulmates are stupid.” He overhears Gladio saying one day. “Those Marks drive you crazy, I’m telling you.”

“So, are you saying you wouldn’t do something like that for me?” Prompto’s trying to be playful, but it misses the mark slightly.

“What? Run off and get myself hurt like an idiot?” Gladio scoffs. “Hell no. Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not saying I wouldn’t protect you. I’d just have some brains about it.”

* * *

The train ride is horribly awkward. Noct is sitting off by himself, caught somewhere between memory and reality. It’s been weeks since Altissia, but they’ve hardly spoken two words since that last conversation in the hotel. Ignis knows that he needs space, time to mourn the loss of his friend, but it hurts. Even if it’s stupid and selfish, he just wants his husband.  
  
Gladio is less sympathetic. He’s never handled his emotions well, choosing instead to bottle them up. What they’re seeing now is the inevitable explosion. It’s all part of the process, so Ignis doesn’t call him out on it, not until he’s dragged into it.

“Ignis took one for you too, and for what? How can you say you love him, when-“

“Enough Gladio!” Ignis will stand for a lot of things, but he will not allow Gladio to use his injuries – his _choice_ – as a weapon against Noct.

It doesn’t help, not that he’d really expected it to. They yell some more, and then poor Promto gets involved. He’s hardly left Ignis’s side this entire time, which is both appreciated and aggravating.

“Pull your head out of your ass already!” Gladio says, like it’s really so simple.

* * *

Ignis manages to catch Noct outside of the elevator at the train station. There are a thousand things he wants to say, things they should probably talk about.

Instead, all he does is ask “Ready to set out?”

Noct makes a little noise of surprise. “Yeah, but… are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe you should wait here.”

Ignis knows that would probably be wise, that he’ll only be a burden to the others. It stings to hear Noct say it, though.

“Don’t worry about me. Just… try not to walk too fast.”

* * *

Noctis is trying. Ignis knows he is, but he keeps forgetting, wandering ahead of them. A physical distance to add to the emotional one. Their Mark, ever visible in the darkness, seems so far out of reach.

Gladio’s passive aggressive comments aren’t helping any more than Prompto’s cloying attempts to diffuse the situation, either.

* * *

Ignis realizes too late that, yes, he probably should have stayed at the train station, his pride be damned. He can’t see whatever it is that they’re fighting, but he can _smell_ it (and well, that’s not real helpful). He tries to use Noct’s Mark to gauge the enemy’s location, but it keeps jumping around in a way that probably would have driven him mad, if he weren’t already used to the blue flashes of magic.

It’s not until he feels a great gust of wind that an idea strikes him. With a prayer, he tosses a magic flask forward, where he’s sure the beast must be. He hears the spell burst into life, feels the warmth of the flames, and knows that he hit his mark.

* * *

They find the Royal Arm (and Ignis is seriously questioning the sanity of whoever built it here), but that’s only one of their problems solved. So, he stops the others as they’re walking out of the tomb. Time to clear the air.

“I won’t suffer this pointless bickering in silence any longer. Let’s be frank. My vision hasn’t improved, and probably won’t.” He hadn’t really expected it to, either. This, he realizes, is the price he has to pay for that little bit of power. “Yet, in spite of this, I would remain with you all. Till the very end.”

“I object.” Gladio says, opinionated as always. It’s just too bad Ignis didn’t really ask for his opinion. “War is a matter of life and death.”

“I won’t ask you to slow down. If I can’t keep up, I will bow out.” They don’t understand. That Ignis needs to see this through to the end, to spend every moment possible with Noct. To maybe, someday, save him from the fate he foresaw.

“What says _His Majesty_?”

“Noct, you are king.” Ignis says, recalling Regis’s words from so long ago. “Gladio, Noct will take his rightful place, but only once he’s ready.” He’s seen it, though he doesn’t mention that particular bit of information.

“Have it your way.” Gladio says, and Ignis can hear water splashing as he turns away from them. “We’re still taking a big risk. We better _all_ be ready.”

* * *

“I’ll understand,” Ignis says. They’re back on the train, and he’s managed to catch Noct alone for the first time in what feels like ages. “If you wish to… separate.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Out of habit, Ignis pushes up his sunglasses. This is another necessary conversation, though, perhaps, not nearly as important as all the other ones they should be having. “Our marriage isn’t entirely legally binding when you think about it and-“

“Wait. Are you asking me if I wanna get divorced?”

“Technically speaking.”

“Of course that’s not what I want! I love you.”

It’s ridiculous how, after all this time, those words still manage to warm his heart. “I know you do. It’s just… that I don’t wish to be a burden to you. And you’ve been so distant lately. I worried that perhaps… your feelings on the matter might have changed.” There it is – all of his ridiculous insecurities laid out for Noctis to see.

“I was trying to give you space.” He reaches across the table to take Ignis’s hand in his own. “I mean, you’re still recovering from your injuries, and… I was worried, too. That you might resent me for what happened to you. Because you did this for me, and I couldn’t do anything to save you.”

Not for the first time, Ignis considers telling him the truth. If Noct knew that he did this to himself, in every sense, it might ease some of the guilt he feels. Or it might make him feel worse that Ignis went to such extremes for his sake.

“I could never.” He says instead, and squeezes Noct’s hand.

“Then, nobody’s getting divorced. Unless… that’s what you want?”

“All I want is to spend every moment that I can with you.”

“Good. Cuz I don’t think I could do this without you.”

* * *

Ignis is not a very romantic person - at least not in the way one would typically expect. He likes to think that's one of the reasons his relationship works so well - neither of them has gone in expecting some epic love story, even if everyone else seems to.

Still, from a young age, he'd been told that his life was going to go a certain way. He and Noct were going to get married, and they'd live in the relative peace and comfort of the Citadel for the rest of their days. (That he'd have to watch his husband wither under the influence of the ring was also a certainty, but one that he chose not to dwell on)

No one told him to expect a road trip with a bunch of sweaty, unbathed men and absolutely no privacy. No one told him that he'd lose his home, and be forced to alternate between sleeping on the cold, hard ground and questionably cheap hotels. Nor had he expected that he'd be married only a few short weeks before his husband was ripped away from him.

He regrets now not looking more into the story of the Chosen King.

* * *

After countless distractions, they finally make it to Gralea, but not without a cost. Prompto has gone missing, though Ignis can’t imagine what Ardyn might want with him. Was he simply a convenient target, or is there something else at play?

To make matters worse, they’ve also been separated from Noct, leaving him and Gladio to stumble around enemy territory alone. It’s crawling with daemons and Magitek Troopers alike, and fear takes hold, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Ardyn gave them their weapons back (and how is he doing that?), but that doesn’t mean he’ll extend the same courtesy to Noct. The image of Noct, alone and weaponless, surrounded by enemies is enough to make Ignis sick.

This time there isn’t anything he can do to save him. He can barely save himself. The weight of a dagger in his hand is comforting, but ultimately useless without a clear idea of where the enemy is and what they are doing. All he can do I stick close to Gladio and try to stay out of the way of that ridiculously long sword. (He really should have taken up fencing)

It’s only when he catches a flash of blue that he feels any sort of relief. He doesn’t know how to explain it to Gladio, though, so he settles for a different explanation entirely.

“Noct’s voice. I heard it clear as day.” It’s not entirely a lie. He can sort of hear it, but not enough to really be helpful. “This way - follow me!”

* * *

Noct seems well enough when they catch up to him, though Ignis can’t gauge his condition for himself. He’s wearing the ring now, and Ignis feels equal parts pride and dread. Mostly, though, he seems shaken, which is perfectly understandable.

They slip off into one of the bunkers to rest, and Noctis sits next to him on one of the hard, lumpy mattresses. He plays with the fingers of Ignis’s Marked hand as he explains what happened during their brief separation.

“There’s something else Ardyn said…” Ignis can feel Noct’s gaze fixed on him. “Or hinted at, really. About what happened in Altissia.”

Oh. He feels like he should say something, but words fail him. He never intended for Noct to find out how foolish he’d really been.

“What?” Gladio asks. “The hell’s he talking about, Iggy?”

“Please, tell me you didn’t.” Noct pleads, as though his Shield had never spoken. He grips Ignis’s hand tight enough to be uncomfortable, but Ignis doesn’t pull away. His other hand reaches up to trace the scars in his face. “Tell me you didn’t put the ring on. You know what it does to people.”

Gladio makes some noise between confusion and horror. Ignis ignores it.

“I’d do it all over again, for you.”

“I’d never ask you to.” He hears the tears in Noct’s voice.

“I know. This was my choice, and I will live with the consequences, as long as you’re alive.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

Ignis considers that. There are lots of reasons he kept this to himself, mostly out of a misguided attempt to protect Noct. “We had more important things to deal with, and I didn’t wish to burden you.”

“Don’t be stupid. Nothing is more important to me than you are.” He says, and that’s exactly what Ignis is afraid of. He 

* * *

It doesn’t take them much longer to find Prompto, who’s shaken by revelations about his origins, but otherwise safe.

Then there’s Ravus, or what’s left of him, anyway. Ignis can’t see what he’s become, and they weren’t exactly friends, but he’s sure that no one deserves that kind of fate. He hopes that Ravus finds some sort of peace in death. At least he’s with Lunafreya now.

After that, it should be a straight shot to the Crystal. Of course, Ardyn can’t make things easy for them (and really, it’s baffling the way he switches between being helpful and being a complete nuisance). They’re suddenly surrounded by daemons, and Ignis knows that he has to let Noct go.

He has to reach the Crystal – to obtain its power, and fulfill his destiny.

(But they should have more time, right? The Noctis in his vision isn’t the same one he last saw, and surely things can’t have changed so much in those few weeks.)

Unfortunately, fate is not that kind. When they reach the Crystal, there is no Noct, no stars twinkling in the darkness of his vision. There’s only Ardyn, and a rock that Ignis would smash to pieces if it means he could extract the man he loves from the rubble.

* * *

Umbra approaches them one day, and noses at Ignis’s old notebook full of recipes until Gladio picks it up. He finds an empty page and scribbles out a note to Noct to meet them in Hammerhead. They have no doubt that Umbra will deliver the note, just as he has always done.

Before he leaves, however, Ignis pulls Prompto to the side and convinces him to add something for him.

_Hurry back, my love._

He knows it won’t bring Noctis back any faster, but it makes him feel better. He worries that they have a long wait ahead of them, that the Crystal won’t return Noct until it’s time for him to fulfill his calling – to die.

Gentiana – or rather, Lady Shiva – is with Umbra. She’s apparently already given Noct her favor, and now awaits his return. Nobody’s seen that particular mark yet, and Ignis can only imagine what it might be, based on illustrations he’s seen of the Glacian. Still, he has questions for her, and pulls her to the side.

“They say that these Marks are from the gods themselves. If that’s the case, I wonder how you could be so cruel, to promise Noct happiness while dooming him to die.” He doesn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it comes out that way regardless.

“It is not out of cruelty that gods promised you to the Chosen King. It is a kindness. So that the King will know happiness before his time comes.” Shiva says, and at least she doesn’t sound offended.

“You mean so that he has something to die for.”

“The Marks are a rarity in this world, but the Kings of Lucis always bear them. They are Bahamut’s blessed, but that power comes with a great cost. In return, we give them what comfort we can. You should be proud, Ignis Lucis Caelum, that you made the Chosen’s life worth living.”

He doesn’t feel proud. In the time since Noctis left, the nights have continued to get longer. Very soon, the sun will probably stop rising, but for him, there already isn’t any light left in the world.

* * *

Ten years. It takes _ten whole years_ for Noctis to be returned to them (give or take, because time has become essentially meaningless). Ignis knew that it was going to take some time, but he never imagined that it would be this long before he saw those little stars again.

He can’t help but immediately reach out and grab Noct’s hand. It’s covered in grime and sweat (and hadn’t the gods thought to let him bathe at all?), but it’s familiar and comforting. Clumsily, he reaches for Noct’s face and pulls him into a kiss – their first in ten years. He kisses him deeply, with everything he has, and Noct returns the favor.

“How I’ve missed you, my light.” He breathes against Noct’s lips.

“Gods, Iggy. I missed you, too.”

“We’re here too, you know.” Prompto says, and it’s almost like Noct never left at all.

* * *

They spend some time catching up, though it seems Talcott did a pretty good job of filling Noct in already. Then, Galdio’s very unsubtly leading Prompto off somewhere, leaving the two of them alone.

Ignis knows that they should talk, but he doesn’t want to. Not right now. All he wants is to hold Noct in his arms. He want to savor this moment, imprint it in his memory, so that he never forgets this feeling.

Noctis must feel the same way. He can’t seem to keep his hands or his lips to himself, either. There’s a certain hard desperation that leaves him wondering how much Noct knows now about what he’s supposed to do.

“Come on.” Noct says, and tugs him toward the caravan that’s still parked at Hammerhead. It’s hardly romantic, but it has a bed and privacy, and that’s all they really need.

It’s stupid, Ignis knows. They should head out for Insomnia as soon as possible. People are out there dying, waiting for Noctis to bring back the sun. He shouldn’t make them wait any longer, just so he can “get laid”, as Prompto might put it.

In this moment, though, he doesn’t particularly care, because this is the last time they’ll ever be together like this.

They aren’t any more practiced at this now than during their wedding night. Noctis has been trapped in a magic rock, and Ignis was too busy mourning that fact to seek out the company of anyone else. If anything, it’s worse now, because Ignis doesn’t even have his sight to guide him.

Before, they’d taken their time and bumbled their way through the whole thing. Now, they’re impatient, desperate for each other’s touch after so long apart. It isn’t careful or gentle or even easy, but they don’t care, because this is all they have.

Ignis doesn’t have his sight, so he tries to commit everything else to memory – the feeling of Noct’s skin under his fingers, the taste of him on his tongue, the way he says Ignis name like it’s the only thing that matters.

Noct tells him about his new Marks. Supposedly, he gained some sort of anklet from Shiva, and Ignis kisses where he hopes it is. Bahamut, Noct says, left a pattern of swords across the entirety of his back, and Ignis wonders if what he’s done to it counts as sacrilege.

* * *

They make camp one more time before reaching Insomnia. They’re all sitting around the fire, enjoying Ignis’s cooking just like old times, when Noct decides to break the news about what he has to do the next day. Ignis does his best to look surprised, but at least his visor hides part of his face.

“I’ve made my peace.” Noct says, and of course he has. He’s always been too kind for his own good. “Still… it’s more than I can take.”

The atmosphere around the camp is heavy, and Ignis doubts there’s a single dry eye. Even though he already knew, already saw what’s to come, hearing it is more than he bear. It makes it real, reminds him that it’s already too late to stop it, even if he were in a position to do so.

“You guys… are the best.” Noct says, and Ignis’s heart breaks a little more.

* * *

Later, he manages to catch Noct alone, just outside the camp, but close enough to still be protected by the haven.

“You know, looking back,” he says. “It wasn’t all bad.”

“I suppose we had some fun.” Ignis concedes.

“And we did finally get married. That really was the happiest day of my life.”

“Mine, too.” Instinctively, he twists his ring around on his finger.

“I just… I want you to know that I don’t have any regrets. Luna and you guys brought me this far, and now I’m on my own.”

Ignis hesitates. “No. You won’t be going alone. I’ll-“

Noct doesn’t even let him finish. “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t have made it all this way without you guys. In the end, I might not have you at my side, but I’ll always have you in my heart.” He feels the weight of Noct’s hand on his shoulder then, familiar and comforting. “Thanks for everything, Iggy, and… remember that I love you, always.”

Ignis remembers, suddenly, that first meeting. Shy, quiet Noctis taking Ignis’s hand in his own. The sparks that burst forth from that first contact, creating the bond that would lead them to this very moment.

He reaches out for Noct now. Maybe he’d been thinking of the same thing, because he grabs Ignis’s hand now, just as he did then, with both hands. Their Mark illuminates, as it has always done, flaring brighter in Ignis’s vision.

“I love you, too. Always.” He says, as tears start to roll down his cheeks.

* * *

When they were children, Ignis had felt Noctis almost die. During their trip, he’d felt the countless injuries Noct had incurred. In Altissia, he had almost lost Noct a second time, and in Gralea, he’d had Noct unceremoniously ripped away from him.

None of this, or even the knowledge of what was to come, prepared him for this – losing Noct for real. He could pinpoint the exact moment it happened, feel the sword pierce his own chest, as well as Noct’s. His Mark _burns,_ blood dripping down his hand and onto steps of the Citadel.

It feels as though his soul has been ripped from his body, and Ignis knows. That part of himself has died with Noct.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else think it's kinda vague when exactly Ignis loses his sight? Like there's clearly that bit where the screen goes black. But then he fights Ardyn anyway. But then he has to ask where Noct is, even though he right next to him. But then he turns to look at Noct anyway. In conclusion: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. Sol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up rewriting this at the last minute whoops. Anyway, here's something resembling a happy ending.

Ignis doesn’t get to experience the dawn, not really. He wakes up some time after, in one of the rest areas near the subway system. At first, he’s not sure anything’s changed. It’s still dark, still cold. There’s still no Noctis. He can almost pretend that he’s still waiting for Noctis’s return.

Then Prompto comes up to him with tears in his eyes. “It’s beautiful, Iggy.”

Ignis doubts that, but he still lets Prompto lead him upstairs and into the sunlight. It doesn’t help his vision, exactly, but he can feel the warmth of it on his face. He can almost picture the Crown City as it once was, bright and beautiful and _alive_.

He should probably be glad, that Noctis succeeded. Proud even. Instead, he just feels hollow. This is what Noct wanted, but he’s not here to see it. Did he even know that he’d succeeded, or did he just trust that the sun would rise, that the gods had not lied to him?

Ignis doesn’t say any of that, though. “It’s lovely.” He says instead, and hopes that it doesn’t sound like a lie.

* * *

There’s plenty of work to be done. Cities to rebuild, power vacuums to be filled. As those closest to the late king, they should probably be the ones addressing these things. Technically, Ignis is the last remaining member to the royal family, for what that’s worth, but he’s also made it clear that he’s not interested in a position of power.

Instead, the first thing they do is bury Noct. It’s a bit difficult to find the materials, but eventually, they manage to build a proper Royal Tomb – the last of its kind. It sits on the outskirts of the city, near one of Noctis’s favorite fishing spots. They’d once fallen in, and he’d pouted about how they’d supposedly scared all the fish away.

He probably wouldn’t have wanted this. He’d probably want to be buried in sweatpants with his beloved video games. Instead, he’s still dressed in his raiments, and they lay him to rest with his Engine Blade in hand. No one will come looking for it, as kings have done in the past, but it only seems right.

They stand there for a few seconds, in mournful silence. Then, they seal the tomb up, never to be opened again.

The next day, Ignis packs up the few things he has left and leaves the city. He doesn’t tell anyone that he’s leaving, but they’ll probably understand that he needs space.

* * *

He doesn’t return to Insomnia for several years. The city’s changed a lot in that time, so much that it’s difficult to navigate. The others have really accomplished a lot, and Ignis couldn’t be prouder of them. Still, he manages to make his way down the familiar streets.

Parts of the Citadel are still in use, but others have been set aside as a memorial of sorts. One such area is the throne room (because really, what good is a throne without a king?). He’s pretty sure no one is supposed to go in there, but it’s not particularly well guarded either, and no one seems to give any thought to the blind man wandering around.

He remembers when he first came here, as a child. He’d been struck by how far away King Regis was standing, as though he were truly untouchable. Even as an adult, that distance had never seemed to close.

He closes it now. He takes the steps, one at a time, for what feels like an eternity, until he can reach out and touch the throne – Noctis’s throne. They must let a cleaning crew in here, because it’s in pristine condition.

Maybe it’s the effort from traveling here. Or maybe it’s the emotional weight – the grief that he’s never been able to let go of, made fresh by stirring up old memories. Whatever the case, Ignis is tired, exhausted in a way he hasn’t been since the Decade of Darkness.

He sinks to the floor – because he would never presume to sit on the throne – rests his head on the arm and closes his eyes. Just for a minute.

* * *

Ignis wakes to someone shaking his shoulder. It’s a gentle, familiar touch that fills him with longing.

Slowly, he opens his eyes, and looks out into the throne room. He knows that's where is, not just because he remembers falling asleep, but because he can _see_ it. It’s exactly the way he remembers, as if there had never been any war or ten-year darkness. There’s light streaming in through the windows, and it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

He only realizes he’s crying when a hand begins to wipe the tears away. “Ignis?” He hears, and his heart stops beating.

No, it can’t be… But when he turns his head, he sees Noctis, a concerned frown on his handsome face. He looks to be the same age as when he died, but without the beard. Ignis blinks a few times, then pinches himself. It hurts.

“You’re not dreaming.” Noctis supplies helpfully, and by the Six, its good just to hear his voice again. “I’m really here. _You’re_ really here. I’ve been waiting... so long."

“You’re dead.”

“I am.” Noct hesitates a little before adding “and so are you.”

They’re silent, then, while Ignis processes this information. He wasn’t trying to die, per se, but he always knew he wouldn’t last very long once Noct passed. There wasn’t much left for him in life, really. In the years that had passed, he’d wandered, helping out wherever needed, but always lacking a sense of purpose.

“I know it sucks, but I’m just so glad you’re here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Ignis says, and kisses Noctis for the first time in ages. It feels like coming home.

“Whenever you’re ready, everyone’s waiting to see you.”

Later, he’ll go out and see them. His parents, who aren’t exactly apologetic, but don’t say anything else about Noct. His aunt and uncle and his irritating cousins. Lunafreya, who's ecstatic to finally meet him in person. Ravus, who seems more at peace than Ignis has ever seen him. King Regis, who does apologize and thanks Ignis for staying with his son. Even Queen Aulea, who insists that he call her “mom”.

For now, though, he thinks they can all wait. After all, they have all the time in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thanks for sticking with it this long, and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
